A Thief's Heart
by TheWillOfMythal
Summary: Alex Vause is the most famous, most wanted and elusive jewel thief in the world. Piper has every intention to catch her in the act... only to have her heart stolen in the process, too. Vauseman AU.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone!

So... Remember that Vauseman flashback pool scene in season two, the one where Alex replied to Piper's reminder with something like "maybe I should switch career and become a jewel thief"? Yeah, I've been watching old episodes instead of starting with the new season, I know. Anyway, this idea came up and I simply couldn't resist. Honestly, I don't know if something like this has already been done, I wouldn't be surprised if it has because Alex has practically teased it, but still, here is what I came up with :D

Just a short introduction for now :)

As always I apologize for eventual grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.

Enjoy

* * *

The first time you see the infamous Alex Vause, it is at the bar of one of the most famous and expensive hotels in the world.

But that's hardly something to be surprised about - for you at least - knowing her character and how much of a hedonist she is.

You have spent months reading articles above articles about her. Or, well... not exactly about her, but more about her impressive works, which have managed to leave the entire world with its mouth hanging open both in wonder, and secretly - _famously_ \- also in disbelief.

And now here she is, out in the open, surrounded by dozens of other people; bar customers and hotel personnel, who just keep going with their own business, not unaffected by her incredible beauty whenever they pass nearby, but otherwise completely oblivious of her identity, and, most of all, of the leather briefcase sitting abandoned at the feet of her stool, as if its content isn't worth her weight in gold.

If things go as you have planned, you think - and so far they have - you'll have all the time you want later to take a peek inside that briefcase and get your long settled suspicious confirmed once and for all. But now, your attention is magnetically drawn elsewhere, to the owner of that innocent looking briefcase, and honestly, it couldn't be any other way.

It is clear, from the instant your eyes land on the raven haired, green-eyed beauty who makes look sitting so casually with a glass of patron held lazily in what you already know are extremely dexterous fingers given her profession and her - other - most famous, as well as very secret one, too, so elegant, that she is absolutely unique.

Precious and stunning and refined in all her raw beauty.

Something that should be allowed to be observed only from a distance.

Just like the ancient, accurately crafted, masterpieces of jewelry that so happen to catch her interest.

And the same ones that she also steals.

Your heart is pounding inside your chest with a nervous kind of excitement and giddiness that you have never felt before. It is not crippling, although your legs do feel a bit shaky under your stilettos when you finally make your way towards the bar counter.

It is the knowledge, you are very aware of that, about what your plan includes in order to prove your theory, one that only you and no one else in the world has ever even dared to think about, right.

You are going to seduce her.

Because apparently, if there is one thing that Alex Vause doesn't seem to be able to resist, are women, and their private, _intimate_ company. And tonight you have every intention to offer her just that sort of companionship.

You can do it.

You can seduce the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, get her to bring you to her room and then...

Thinking about the rest makes your cheeks flare pink, and so you decide that once you'll get there, if you get that far, you'll review your plan and proceed from whatever point you are left.

In its simplicity, it is encouraging enough.

...If only your confidence would have stayed just as strong and steady as it was a heartbeat before you slide into the stool right next to hers and her eyes, those deep, mystic emerald eyes meet yours, crinkled in a smirk that tugs from the corner of her mouth and that makes you waver under its piercing, enigmatic and irresistible charming fashion.

Her beauty is intimidating.

And that smile with its mischievous edge makes your spine tingle and turns your insides to jelly.

Earlier you thought you would have been able to go through this first approach with an innocuous glass of pinot grigio, but you have the impression that you are going to need something much stronger than that to help you steel your nerves.

You order a tequila.

Double.

Neat.

You down it in the instant it is placed in front of you.

And of course, you make a fool of yourself in the process.

It's strong, burning its way down your throat, so much that you end up coughing in your fist once the feeling spreads into your chest like liquid fire.

If nothing, the embarrassing display serves to catch the attention of the raven-haired goddess sitting beside you.

"Careful there, kid." She says, with the same smirk of before tugging in a more obvious amused way at her generous, rosy lips.

"I- I'm fine," You manage to stutter after another adjusting cough and a soft, more delicate, hummed throat clearing, trying to blame the blush flaring down your neck and chest to the burn that the alcohol left in its wake down your throat, and not for the whole embarrassing choking deal.

"It's just much stronger than what I'm used to get." You admit honestly once you have properly regained your breath, and of course, the shy smile that you flash her for her concern is met by yet another look of amusement, and this time you do notice how, behind those black-rimmed glasses, and under the bright emerald of her eyes, flecks of gold sparkle from the bottom of those clear pools along with her humor.

And despite your stubborn denial, this time you know that the way your breath catches a bit in your throat in front of that sight, has nothing to do with the lingering sting left by the alcohol.

"That's because this tequila is meant to be sipped slowly," She informs you, tearing you back from the spell that that stunning gaze had cast on you, but before you can find a way to reply she is already ordering a glass of water and another glass of tequila for you. A single one this time.

You don't protest, honestly curious to know where this is going, and... already undeniably captivated by her charm, accepting gratefully the glass of water that manages to soothe the raspiness left in your throat before you reach for the glass of silver tequila.

"Small sips," She instructs you with a playful wink, reaching for her own glass as well, "Hold it for a second or two and then swallow."

You follow the advice and...

 _Oh._

It goes down as smooth as honey.

And when you barely catch trace of the aftertaste, bite of alcohol in your mouth, you almost don't believe it is the same brand you ordered before, but it is.

Your eyes flutter shut for a second and a soft "wow" slips past your lips.

"Better this time?" She asks, no longer surprised when you find the hint of that same smirk curling her lips.

"Definitely." You admit, and then your tone drops, almost on its own, into a more flattering one when you compliment her, "You seem to be a real expert."

She chuckles amused, and god if that delicious slightly raspy sound doesn't make your insides melt further...

"Hardly." She answers then, with charming modesty. "I'm far from one actually."

You have some trouble believing that, although she does sound and look completely honest about it.

"All I know," She continues, and this time it is her tone that becomes slightly deeper, and perhaps... more... seductive. "Is that fine, unique things are meant to be savored properly. And slowly."

 _Oh, and you would know all about how to savor fine unique things, wouldn't you?_

Jesus... She is so captivating.

And you are so hopelessly drawn to her and to that sly smile of hers.

You toast to all the refined and unique things that must be properly savored.

 **. . .**

Tequila tends to have this very particular effect on you, which, in hindsight, makes you think that you should have maybe chosen the wine after all as it was your first intention, but... Thinking better about it, and about how this has turned out to be, you reconsider the whole idea.

Because, after having spent the evening talking and laughing and smoothly flirting - because that's what a good tequila makes you do - and secretly swooning over the infamous Alex Vause, not only you manage to get an invite up to her room, but you also get there with your lips sealed in a searing kiss.

You are not drunk.

You made damn sure to stop way before you could even approach that dangerous limit.

You are barely breezy. Still perfectly able to realize what is happening. And yet barely able to believe it.

The presidential suite is probably five times the size of your studio apartment, and it appears to have absolutely everything, along with what you already imagine being a breathtaking, heart-stopping view of the entire city, but you only catch few distracted glimpses of all of it, and even if you would probably revel in staying into such a dreamy room and enjoy its many luxuries, right now all of that seems just so insignificant, utterly irrelevant, compared to the way your body hums in delight and throbs with a familiar need that gets further fueled deep in your belly by the gorgeous woman kissing you with something you can only describe as a gentle patient fervor as you stumble towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of wrinkled clothes behind.

Her lips taste like the expensive tequila that you have both been drinking, and the warm, moist inside of her mouth has the subtle sweetness that reminds you of delicate elderflower syrup.

You soon find out that Alex Vause is an insatiable lover. Selfish in her selflessness to give and give and give pleasure. So much that you have the impression that she gets off alone by simply pleasuring you.

She is gentle, extremely so, but that doesn't interfere with the flame that you can feel and see burn with ardor inside of her and that she shows to you with each gesture, from the most innocent ones of when she cups your jaw to draw you into a kiss, to the more intimates of when she first slips her fingers through the slippery warmth of your sex.

And her voice... You are sure that you could come just by listening to that voice.

Deep in such a refined way.

The quality of the tone makes you think about expensive dark velvet, and having her whisper so close to your ear, a bit raspier, a bit breathless with the exertion of her body as she gradually leads you towards what you already know is going to be a very powerful orgasm, is almost enough to push you over the edge.

The effect that hearing it has on you feels as amazing as the extremely dexterous fingers stretching you, pumping inside you with gentle precision, seeking for that spot that she has already discovered and that you know will make you soak the fancy silk sheets, but she seems to want just that. And with that sweet silent knowledge, you do just that.

You come with a long string of powerful shudders, gasping a broken moan against her lips, holding tightly onto whatever part of her you can reach, hard enough to probably leave bruises and scratch marks on such delicate fair skin, selfishly unable to care at the moment, but Alex doesn't seem to mind one bit.

She draws out everything you have, forces you to give every last drop of your release, until your orgasm turns into a second and then into a long third one, and you almost pass out for an overload of sensations.

Your body is left buzzing, humming, skin tingling so pleasantly as, after what seem to be ages, you come down from your high, feeling so gloriously sated, like you have felt before, and yet still incredibly thirsty, but with another need. A very demanding one that becomes irrepressible once your eyes flutter open and you are met with the sight of her, all perfect naked glory and mischievous, pleased, almost smug smirk.

An infuriating, gorgeous, _almost smug_ smirk that turns into a look of utter bewilderment when you decide to take advantage of the fulcrum allowed by the leg you still have secured around her hip, to flip on top of her in one swift movement, and now it's your turn to smirk at that first surprised-turned-very-intrigued expression.

And then, as if your new position doesn't make your intentions pretty clear already, you still lean in and whisper right against the corner of her mouth.

"I want to feel you too." You tell her, voice coming out slightly rough, strange to your own ears as you struggle to regain your breath and recover from your latest orgasm, but even if the words come out breathlessly, almost softly, you don't think that you have ever meant something as strongly as you do right now.

And she lets you.

Her skin smells like the most intoxicating combination of bitter oranges blossoms and almond oil as you make your way down her body and then when you finally reach the core of her need, you also find out that her arousal tastes like pure heaven.

The plan, your initial intentions about all of this, everything that doesn't exist in the sweetly tangy flavour that spreads on your tongue and makes you moan at the first lick as you sample it, and that has Alex moan deeply in her chest and twine her fingers through your hair in response, is utterly irrelevant.

You just want a chance or possibly more than just one to properly touch her and make her feel just as amazing as she made you feel.

And you do.

More times than you can remember.

And when you have nothing left to give to the other you can only think that you have never known a more tender and considerate touch, and that you have never known a greater, most satisfying pleasure than the one that she has brought to you, or the equally deeply gratifying one that pleasing her has given you.

You try with every ounce of strength left, which isn't much, to stay awake, telling yourself that it is because you still have your theory to be proven right, and not because you don't want the night to end yet.

But Alex's arms around you, the embrace of who you still consider somehow a stranger with whom you just had the most amazing sex in your life, feels so warm and cozy and... so oddly safe, and _right,_ that before you know it, your eyelids are already starting to surrender, and your breath is becoming more even and smooth as the exhaustion from your previous, intense, wildly passionate activities, finally takes over.

As you fall asleep, you don't even think about the briefcase left behind somewhere in the living room and its possible contents.

You don't think about catching the most wanted and famous thief of the world in the act.

Your plan has been left at the bar of the hotel, approximately thirty floors below you, one glass of tequila, five orgasms, and countless kisses ago.

 **. . .**

The next morning the world wakes up once again dumbfounded by the news of the seemingly impossible theft of one of the most precious, beautifully decorated necklaces left completely intact from the ancient world.

The precious item in the display case replacement like every other time by the red rose that has become a famous signature

Your suspicion, even if you didn't know which piece of jewelry was going to be, has turned out to be right. And, as always, you already knew that the artist responsible, who succeeded once again in the incredible challenge of stealing something from one of the museums with the highest security system in the country, is going to walk away and get lost in the crowd undetected.

Because who would ever suspect that the most wanted thief in the world is also one of the most talented diamond cutter of the continent.

But in the moment you wake up, you still don't know any of that, and you are aware of one thing and one thing only.

And that is that the sense of contentment that has lulled you through the night, turns into something colder and sinking when you, searching for the solid cozy presence that has kept you warm, find out that you are completely alone in the elegant queen sized bed.

Your eyes flutter open to confirm it, rubbing the sleep away and blinking, squinting to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the large windows, but it is clear, from the moment you can finally focus, that there is no trace of Alex anywhere in the vast hotel suite.

The room is impossibly silent and still.

Empty from any other presence beside your own.

An uneasy, hollow sensation starts spreading in your chest at that realization, until something resembling a tiny spark of what you refuse to call hope yet, gets lit up when, in your distracted observation of the bedroom, your eyes land on a folded piece of paper sitting neatly on the opposite nightstand

You pull the covers away and stretch to pick it with barely restrained eagerness and curiosity.

It's an envelope.

With a note in an exceptionally elegant handwriting at the front.

Your heartbeat stutters even before you start to read it...

 _Thank you for the delightful time, Piper._

 _Normally, I don't bring a woman to my bed without at least offering her a proper dinner and a resemblance of some old-fashioned courtship first. Maybe next time I'll behave more like a lady. But after all these months, there is no such need. I feel like I already know you._

 _AV_

There is even a little heart beside the initials, but you are way too busy to notice it right away, still trying to wrap your mind around that _next time_ and...

 _After all these months?_

You fiddle to open the envelope with a deep frown and once you see its contents, you freeze.

Mouth hanging a bit open, and eyes wide as you pull out the pictures.

Pictures _of you._

From the few times you have followed her around the city, wondering what she was up to.

A sinking realization crashes into you at once, with such force to leave you breathless, speechless, unable to process for a few seconds.

Because _fuck._

 _She has played you._

You might have followed her around, even spied on her once or twice, but now you realize that in your attempt to seduce her in order to prove your suspicion right, you only succeeded because she let you, because she drew you into her own plan, because, in the end, _she_ is the one who _seduced you._

You should be furious, but really, you can't even help but laugh after finding this out.

Because you thought that she wasn't so elusive after all, pretty easy to find actually, but now you know that you approached her with such ease only because _she let you._

...But why?

 _If she knew your intentions..._

Your gaze shifts, wandering aimlessly, thoughtfully.

And it is only then, when you look around you as if in search of an answer to your own question, that you see it.

The beautiful red rose resting gracefully on your nightstand.

Something flutters inside your chest at the sight of it and of its perfect deep red beauty.

You let go of the envelope and pictures to carefully pick the flower up instead.

There is a note attached to it as well with a thin golden thread, a much smaller one, with the same exquisite handwriting.

 _Until next time,_ it reads.

With a suppressed, slightly flushed grin, and that message replaying in your mind with Alex's deep voice, you bring the rose instinctively under your nose.

And as you inhale its delicately fresh fragrance and caress the impossibly soft velvety petals, you can only think that never before has a rose smelled of such a sweet promise.

* * *

 **Just an appetizer, but don't worry, even in another universe, these two can never stay away from the other for long ;) They are too into each other :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Hi there!

Wow! You guys are amazing! I can't believe the response that the first chapter of this story has received :D Thank you so much for all your kind flattering words :) I'm so happy to know you enjoy this idea :D Anyway, sorry for the delay guys, you know how much I hate to keep you waiting, but now I'm back with the second chapter for you. It's still not very long, but you know how much I like to take my time with these two ladies, especially when they have just met and are so very intrigued and magnetically attracted to each other :P

Enjoy

* * *

There is that saying that goes like, _if you want to catch a criminal, you must think like one, too._

Without a victim, it's hard to consider Alex Vause as a real criminal and her works as criminal acts at all, but you know that for the law she's seen as one, and so you adopt that kind of approach when, after a couple of weeks since your very unexpected, very clever, calculated, very passionate _trap,_ you decide to find her.

The Smithsonian is having an exhibition in the city, exposing a series of precious jewels coming from oversea, mostly from England.

Necklaces, pendants, earrings, from the second half of the Renaissance, made with pearls, sapphires, rubies and many other precious gems.

All items that have been perfectly maintained, all unique and breathtakingly beautiful that belong to no one anymore.

There are no guarantees that she will be there.

Singapore has arranged an even more impressive exhibition, an international one, of more modern pieces of jewelry that seems to be appetizing enough to possibly catch the notorious Red Rose Thief's attention.

And yet, you feel... _something,_ giving you an extra, more encouraging nudge when you think about Alex's refined Classic taste, and when you also consider that tonight, being the evening of the Independence Day, where most of the attention will be pointed towards the celebration and the fireworks and the crowded streets, Alex could be even more tempted by such a nice diversion to take advantage of. Not that she needs one. But still, just in case.

With all those facts supporting your _"most likely"_ theory, you decide to follow your instinct and go to the Smithsonian.

Somehow, you manage to find an approximate planimetry of the building. You have been there enough times to know how the sections are divided, but after you go through the maps in and out and around the museum, you realize that there are no evident possible ways out besides the main entrance.

Except... maybe...

There might be a flaw.

It's actually so minimal and unlikely that you almost dismiss it immediately, but your legs have another idea. When you get there, you walk outside the park at the front, rounding the building and reaching an alley on the back.

A very narrow and dark alley that seems to be a completely blind spot in between two buildings, devoid of any cameras or even random pedestrians for that matter.

That's it, you think.

If Alex has her way out, which she most definitely does if she is actually here, then it must be this one.

All the other possible exits face the main streets or the park at the front, and the entire area is surrounded by surveillance cameras. And for how much you are aware of the fact that the woman can elude even the most sensitive and sophisticated security system in the world with her hands tied behind her back, you also know that she isn't going to take unnecessary risks.

She likes playing dangerous games. But she is never reckless or cocky.

 _Well..._

Not so much, you think when a flash of that trademark smirk flashes in your mind from a still very fresh memory that makes your body respond in ways you prefer to ignore at the moment.

You think about your options, examine the streets map and the one of the museum a few more times to see if maybe there is some other spot you haven't taken in consideration, but no.

This is definitely the place.

Confident that you are right, and buzzing with an equal, almost intoxicating sense of anticipation and excitement to be proven right - again - you slip into the alley... and wait.

You wait for a long time.

Listening to the distant sound of music echoing from the concert playing at Central Park mingled with the usual noise of traffic moving on the busy streets, something you still haven't completely gotten used to since you moved in the city.

You wait until your legs start to feel a bit stiff and you begin shifting the weight and growing tiredness from one foot to the other, thinking that maybe you weren't right after all about this idea, feeling silly for even just considering something so ridiculous.

The sound of fireworks popping brings you back from those thoughts, making you lift your head up instinctively, catching a few bright pink sparks in the sky.

The noise isn't so loud from such distance, not even when a few firecrackers start exploding a couple of streets away from your position, but the distraction provided by the show and the noise is more than enough to divert your attention for a few seconds, which apparently are more than enough for the figure that has been climbing silently, stealthily, down the side of the building to surprise you - almost scare you to death actually - as they finally drop to the ground with one final leap just a few steps from you.

You should have expected it. Especially since you had previously considered such idea, but still, when you see the tall, lean figure drop in front of you, completely clad in black clothes, wearing a dark hood and scarf that covers most of the face... Well, it's a sight that would be kind of intimidating, terrifying even, and the way your body jolts with surprise at first, you think it is justifiable.

You are pretty sure that your heart stops for a couple of seconds, but all it takes to start beating again with a rhythm you have only recently discovered, stuttering in a way you try not to think about how good it feels, just like you ignore the fluttery thing stirring in your belly, too, is see those eyes.

A pair of bright green gems that pierce through the darkness of the alley and the night from a slit left by the hood, those eyes that have the power to pin you down with a simple glance.

It leaves you... breathless.

But not afraid.

 _"You look like you are waiting for someone."_

The voice comes out slightly muffled through the scarf, but its quality is so distinctive that even if you weren't expecting her you would have still recognized the singular depth of that tone anywhere.

The dark figure takes a few steps towards you, closing the distance keeping you apart before taking the black hood and scarf off and...

There she is.

Flashing you one of those charming lopsided grins.

"Missed me already, kid?"

You don't think that, surprise landing aside, even with a bit of preparation to steady yourself you would have managed to keep your heart from tripping over in your chest in the moment she greets you, reveling herself like that, in all her devastating beauty.

"I knew I would have found you here." It's what you manage to say eventually after you have recovered from her sudden appearance, and you are proud of the way your voice comes out, strong and steady, without disturbing the quietness of the alley you are hiding in.

Alex however just quirks an amused eyebrow at your statement.

"You mean, in a dark alley during the whole Independence Day celebration?" She asks as she starts to take off the black leather gloves that she's wearing, too. "What can I say, the best seats for the fireworks were all already taken." She shrugs with that mocking innocent look. But you see right through it and into the naughtiness of her teasing in the way her eyes sparkle with mischief.

You cross your arms over your chest and narrow your eyes at her with a hard stare.

"You know what I mean Alex."

Maybe it is your new stance, the severity in your tone, whatever it is that you have done in the last two seconds in an attempt to look more serious just seems to amuse her even more.

"Do I?" She asks with that smug smirk already starting to tug at the corner of her mouth in a way you find equally annoying and, even if you would probably never admit it... so damn attractive.

You watch as she pockets her gloves and then fiddles with something against her shoulder without diverting her gaze from you.

Straps, you notice.

From the small tactic backpack that she is carrying, and which content you can already picture. Just like the briefcase from last time.

You are so distracted in observing her, in revisiting a couple weeks old - still impossibly very fresh and vivid - memories, that you don't even notice how the loud noise of some police car sirens echoing in the distance, sound now so much closer, and when the cruisers pass, speeding on the main street adjacent to the alley where you are standing, for the second time in less than two minutes you almost jump out of your skin.

And yet, the first instinct you have, is to push Alex against the brick wall behind her, leaning your body flush against hers in some sort of attempt to... _hide her?_

And from where did _that_ come from?

"Whoa!" Alex's exclamation comes out more like a forced breath than anything else for the sudden, harsh impact against the wall, "Someone's jumpy tonight."

You have absolutely no idea how she can look so calm over this when you are practically shaking with nervousness even just at the thought of getting caught with the most wanted thief in the world, but... there is something more under that light anxious tremble and that feeling rolling in your stomach. You just make the wise call to decide to no acknowledge it right now.

"Not that I'm complaining about this new arrangement kid. But..." It is Alex's voice that, thankfully, distracts you from those feelings and whatever thoughts they were dragging along, and it is only then that you realize how your bodies are pressed together, so impossibly close, face mere inches apart from the other's, close enough to feel Alex's warm breath brush against your cheek, and clearly see the tiny flecks of gold resting at the bottom of those deep, stunning emerald eyes.

She smirks at you and at your obvious - unintentional but unavoidable - very appreciative scrutiny.

It takes you a beat more to recover, blinking away the haze of awe that was starting to cloud you vision, but when you do, you push back from her with another start, which of course amuses Alex even more, especially when, in the swift movement, you lose your balance, stumbling back on your own feet and she has to promptly reach out to steady you.

"Careful there." She warns softly, throwing you a wink that almost makes you trip all over again.

"So what do you say, it's better if we continue with... _whatever this is_ somewhere more private?"

It's impossible not notice or even hear the mischief in that invitation, in the glint in her eyes and in the teasing, deliberate drop of her already deep voice, but this time at least you have the decency to not feel tricked into an answer simply by the way your own body seems to vibrate with a new energy at her close proximity when you accept that subtle invitation with a nod and an oddly, slightly raspy, "Okay."

 **. . .**

You end up in a hotel.

A less extravagant one respect the one where you met, but always very tasteful, something that definitely doesn't surprise you considering your companion.

It's not distant from the museum, just a few blocks and Alex changes along the way, taking off the first black layer of her gear top to reveal, much to your surprise, a simple but elegant white button-up underneath.

When she catches you staring she doesn't even try to contain the smile that tugs at her lips from shaping into one of those full smirks as she neatly rolls up her sleeves.

"You must forgive me, if I knew we were going to meet, I would have chosen something more... _revealing."_ She mocks-apologize and you blush, probably even brighter than the fireworks exploding above your heads, because, despite the teasing in her voice, you might have caught a note of sincerity in that statement, too.

You don't think much of it. And don't say anything else until you get to the hotel.

Alex speaks with a thick German accent at the reception, which sounds so authentic that the initial urge to laugh is pushed aside with something very close to amazement.

She gets a double room, and for once, you know that there is nothing behind that choice besides the fact that she simply enjoys staying comfortable.

"Make yourself at home," Is the first thing that she invites you to do when you get inside and she starts doing just that, closing the door, carefully dropping her backpack on one of the chairs in front of the desk before toeing off her boots.

But you don't take one step further into the room, and her warm welcoming invite is only meet with your much more serious, "We need to talk."

Your straightforwardness does nothing to Alex, who simply keeps going with her routine as she asks you a quite distracted, "What about?"

"About what you were doing there tonight."

If she hears the accusation you are putting behind your words she definitely doesn't show it, or even any minimal sign of uneasiness for that matter.

"Interesting topic, but I thought I had already answered that question," She replies at last, and you think about earlier and her quip regarding the best seats for the fireworks being already taken, "And honestly," She continues, turning to face you from her undressing with a mix of pure curiosity and ever-present amusement, "I'm more curious to know what were _you_ doing there."

You take her in, belt hanging unbuckled at the front of her black cargo pants, shirt almost completely unbuttoned, revealing perfect alabaster skin and the first glimpse of what you know are two incredibly soft and very generous mounds trapped into a fine lace bra.

You don't even realize that you are biting your bottom lip - a miserable attempt to contain everything that is stirring inside you in front of that magnificent body - until you hear Alex's voice piercing through the haze of all those still incredibly fresh memories.

"It seems like I just got my answer," She announces with a very pleased smile. "But I would still like to hear it from you if you don't mind."

She crosses the room, deliberately slowly, until she is staying just a few steps from you, but close enough that you are sure she must be able to hear the frantic beats of your heart.

"So tell me Piper, were you waiting for me?"

When you still have no idea how to properly breathe with her in such close proximity, least of all form words to reply, Alex seems to notice and her expression softens into something less teasing and more... sincere.

"You know, I really did enjoy our time together." She admits softly, and maybe it's the sincerity in that statement, the reminder of the elegantly written note that you have found on the night stand the morning after the night of pure passion you have shared, or maybe it is the hint of vulnerability seeping in her tone as she continues that makes your heart do that little flip inside your chest. "And I would be lying if I said that I haven't thought about you ever since, or about a possible... repeated performance from our last encounter."

Her smile becomes a little more suggestive at that last added bit, but her gaze remains soft and tentative.

And fuck.

 _Who the fuck are you kidding?_

You would be lying too if you admitted something other than what she has just confessed to you. If you admitted that the reason your heart is hammering so hard and is because of the rush of adrenaline in knowing that Alex has probably robbed yet another museum from a precious piece of jewelry and you are the only one in the world currently aware of this, and not because of Alex. Just Alex. The woman without the criminal inclinations and preferences in uniquely precious, very shiny things.

When she takes the last step towards you, you know that she has you, and suddenly, leaning back against the closed door isn't doing much to prevent your knees from buckling when she brings a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear or when you catch a whiff of her perfume; a fragrance made of orange blossoms and that something headier that is purely hers, so deliciously intoxicating that your eyes flutter shut and a moan almost slips past your lips if you wouldn't bite on them to suppress it.

"If you don't want this Piper," She starts, clearly aware your inner struggle to keep control, voice low and deep and gently warning, "Tell me to stop and I will. Even though we both know that that's not what you want, isn't it?"

She is right.

The fact that she can see right through you with such ease infuriates you beyond belief.

But she is right.

And when she just stays there, hand still ghosting over your cheek, waiting for you to give her your answer and you fail to find words, you just decide to give her _that_ answer in the only way you can think of. Tangling a hand in her long silky black hair and pulling her into a kiss, because there is no way you would ever be able to pretend that you don't want this, or that you don't desire her so much that it's starting to ache in all the right places.

You find the confirmation that this is absolutely what you wanted more than anything in the moment your lips touch hers and your heartbeat stutters in such a gloriously wonderful way when Alex cups your jaw to bring you closer, kissing you back, passionately, but without urgency, running the tip of her tongue along your bottom lip in that silent request to deepen the kiss, a permission that you grant eagerly, shivering in her arms and moaning in her mouth when the firm slippery warmth of her tongue meet yours in an ardent dance for dominion that you are way too enthusiastic to lose and let her take the lead.

You start tugging off the rest of her clothes, feeling her smile against your lips at your impatience, only slowed down and replaced with the much more exquisite need to savor this properly when she places a gently firm hand on top of yours to slow down your movements when you reach the first button of her pants and she whispers, "We have all night, kid."

And for how simple, those few words, the reassurance and promise in them, make you breathe more easily, have you kiss her more slowly, and finally, when she feels you melt like that against her, she starts undressing you as well, tugging you towards the bed, where she lays you down and where you know she is going to cherish your body like no one else but her has ever done before.

Making you feel things that will give a whole, new, fuller meaning to the word pleasure.

* * *

 **Yeah I know, I know, I'm a tease...**


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone!

Don't worry guys, I haven't forgotten about this story :) I had it almost ready for a few days actually but I needed to fix a couple of things before posting it, but I thank you for be so patient and of course for all the flattering comments you left about the previous chapter :D You are way too kind! Thank you :) And to make it up to you, this chapter is much longer respect the previous :)

I have a couple of things that I wanted to say before I leave you to the chapter however, nothing about the story but, since it has been asked me different times already by a few readers/reviewers I have decided to answer here, lol. You wanted to know if I have an account on some social and the answer is no... I'm not in any social network simply because I don't think I would have the patience to keep one active and it would probably stay there abandoned gathering dust... although, occasionally, I lurk on tumblr, but in other fandoms, to see some fan arts and stuff...

And... speaking of other fandoms/ships... I might have stumbled into the first season of Wynonna Earp and... Yeah, I kinda love it... Sooo I was wondering if maybe someone here would be interested in some Wayhaught? If so, then please send me a PM :)

Anyway, back to Vauseman, as I already said a couple of times, I haven't started with the new season and I appreciate the fact that you are keeping any mention of the show from the comments, and yet in the comments section of my "Devoted Hearts" story someone left a spoiler. I know that it wasn't on purpose, but still... pretty please to that kind reviewer to be more careful? And a huge thank you to all the others for being so attentive :)

And now I'll leave you guys to the chapter :D

Enjoy

* * *

When Alex told that there was no reason to rush things and that you had the whole night to enjoy yourselves, you should have probably expected that she was going to be a tease.

She has that word written all over her gorgeous smirking face, and you take blame for not considering that obvious mood before.

Because, after all, you surely haven't forgotten what she said to you the first time you met, perfectly aware of the hedonistic, pleasure-seeker philosophy in which she lives; where she takes great enjoyment in savoring thoroughly every single moment of every unique thing that she does.

And in this case, that would be you.

Part of you feels flattered that, apparently, she considers you and this moment as one of those precious ones that must be fully cherished.

The other however is beyond frustrated by her playfulness.

You can feel her, moving inside you. Firm and precise. Purposeful thrusts and expert curls that hit all the most sensitive and exquisite spots... but at such an agonizingly slow pace that is quickly driving you insane.

"Alex..." You mean it like a warning, but even if you manage to half growl it, the strangled moan that slips at the end of her name makes it sound so much more like a desperate plea.

You try to lift your hips in an attempt to meet each one of her thrusts, coaxing her to speed up at a needier rhythm. But your efforts are met just by one of those gorgeous, infuriating smirks and a disapproving "uh-huh" as she straddles one of your thighs to hold you down.

"Patience, kid." Is all that she says, but under that teasing deep tone, there is something that sounds so very much like a promise. A sweet, reassuring, _"not yet, but soon."_

You can't quite understand why she would ever make you wait for something that you can feel she wants as badly as you do, until you feel her, grinding against your leg, and fuck... Now you do understand and even forgive her deliciously tormenting touches. Because, if there is something better than coming apart under Alex Vause, with her fingers pumping steadily deep inside of you, is coming with her and share the explosive apex of your pleasure, together.

So you tighten the muscles in your leg, offering her an even harder surface to grind against, releasing the sheets balled up in your fist to grip her hip and guide her. An effort that is repaid in the moment you hear her groan her approval and pick up a pace that keeps increasing, faster, harder, deeper.

So gloriously deeper that your legs fall further apart and your other hand comes up as well to grip the exquisite firm swell of her ass in an attempt to keep yourself grounded by the feelings that are making you feel like you're floating as you move together, finding the perfect rhythm that completes the movement of the other, until, after an extremely precise curling motion and one final slippery grind against your thigh, everything stills for a seemingly endless second.

Alex goes impossibly stiff on top of you, her blunt nails digging into your hip hard enough that it would make you hiss in pain if it wasn't for the first wave of crashing pleasure that assaults you right in that moment and that has your spine bow off the bed in pure delight and your lips part in a wordless cry of bliss as your inner walls clench over and over around those talented fingers while yours twitch with jealousy where you are holding into Alex.

You should be a bit disappointed that this time you haven't managed to touch her directly and experience once again that intoxicating feeling of her warm, velvety inner walls clutching tightly, over and over, around you too, but there is still something so satisfying and... _primal,_ in having her arousal smeared all over your thigh, in feeling her jerk her hips forward for those few uncoordinated grinds as she rides from the peak to the last bits of her own orgasm, that feels _almost_ just as wonderful.

You are both a panting, shivering, twitching mess by the time the waves of aftershock ripples sweetly through your spent bodies, but still, when you start to come down from that shared high, the first thing that you both seem to search for when Alex half leans-half collapses forward to lay on top of you, are each other's lips.

The kiss is a bit off centered at first, a bit messy, but it's soft and comforting in ways you can't quite understand. It makes the withdraw of her fingers from deep inside you feel less like a loss when you have her tongue swirling so expertly along yours, lazily, yet so perfectly for this moment.

She still tastes like you, just like you probably still taste a little like her, and the mingled flavor you create is something heady that tastes like undeniable pure passion and... contrasting feelings.

It's too much of a perfect moment to be spoiled by examining those confusing emotions up close or overthink the fact that you have slept, _again,_ with Alex for something that definitely has nothing to do with your intentions like it should have also been the first time you ended up like this.

And this time it feels so much more... intimate.

Something that would usually make some alarm go off in your head, especially when Alex rolls off you and into her side before gently gathering you in her arms.

The last thing you want to do is fight the warmth offered by the loose embrace that has you curl almost instinctively on her front, laying your head on that spot between her shoulder and neck that feels so strangely safe and comforting, just like the sweet salty scent lingering there.

You plan on just recovering, refill your lungs with some air after your intense... reunion, but of course, your exhausted body has other ideas, and when you place your hand on her chest right above that steady calming heartbeat, that soothing, constant thrum under your fingers combined with the gentle hand running slow casual patterns up and down your side and back, is more than enough to lull you into sleep.

You wonder if you are already dreaming when you feel smiling lips press a kiss on the apple of your cheek.

All you know for sure, is that you snuggle further into the solid warmth wrapped so safely around you.

 **. . .**

There is that weird deja vu-like feeling when you wake up with a light start in an empty bed.

A sinking feeling that brings you back to a couple of weeks ago.

Your arm stretched out before your eyes can flutter fully open, searching almost instinctively the other side of the bed just in the moment your ears pick up the distinctive muffled noise of the shower spray coming through the closed door of the adjacent bathroom.

The comfort that you find in that simple noise shouldn't make you feel so relieved and content, but it does, and a strangely pleasant cozy tingling spreads in your chest when you lay back down on the bed with a smile stretching across your lips.

You let your eyes flutter open for the rest of the way, blinking the slight blurriness away only to realize that it's still night, and not even that late, probably just an hour or so from your... latest session.

The heat that flares on your cheeks at that thought is way too familiar, but, strangely enough, not so uncomfortable. Because even if you have fallen asleep, you can only blame Alex for that, for the way she has so wonderfully exhausted you, and you know that she must have taken that exhaustion after your intense, passionate... meeting, as something very close to a compliment.

The shower spray is a somehow reassuring background for those thoughts. A soft steady reminder that Alex is still here. That she hasn't fled like she did last time.

Well... Not yet, at least.

You can't quite explain the feelings stirring inside of you at that knowledge, or maybe you purposefully decide not to. All you know is that there is still that tiny smile tugging at your lips that you can't seem to be able to get rid of.

That's it at least, until - in the moment you pull yourself up in search for a more comfortable position - your still drowsy gaze lands on the desk beside the window. And suddenly you are very, _very much_ awake.

Your heartbeat stutters and your entire body stiffens for a hot second when you notice the black backpack resting innocently and forgotten on the chair.

Nervousness swells in your chest and tenses your muscles in front of that sight, twisting your stomach into tight knots that make it difficult for you to breathe properly as your thoughts race fast enough to make your head spin, especially when you think about what that bag could- _does_ contain.

 _It's just a few steps away,_ it's the first thought that settles heavily and loudly enough for you to be able to pick it up over the rest and hear it over the suddenly hard and erratic beats of your racing heart. Because you have been waiting for this exact occasion for so long, hoping to get to it and exploit it the first time you ended up in a hotel room with Alex, and last time you came this close - succeeding in the first part of your plan - you failed miserably in the second, leaving the contents of that briefcase a mystery until the rest of the world had announced it.

You should untangle yourself from the sheets wrapped around your body and jump out of the bed with eagerness at the opportunity.

And yet...

Now that you are here and finally _do_ have such opportunity to get the definitive answer that would put to rest the last standing one of your suspicions...

There is... _something..._ holding you back.

Your gaze shifts once again, this time to the empty side of the bed and then to the closed bathroom door, where the shower keeps running, and suddenly, as you think about Alex, you realize that the feeling that had stirred in your stomach is not the one of excitement that you thought you felt, but something much different. Uncomfortable even.

Because a part of you feels so strangely conflicted. And not only about snooping into her things.

It's hard not to give in to its weight and to the much more pressing one that you try to tell yourself it's not guilt.

But... on the other hand, you can't shut up the thought that keeps echoing in your head and telling you that you have come _this far._

It's something that definitely doesn't sit easily on your stomach.

But it still doesn't stop you from getting up when curiosity has the better of you.

You move silently. Glancing at the closed door of the bathroom as you reach the desk and then, with hesitant hands, you grab the backpack from the chair before returning back to the bed, sitting on the edge, half wrapped in the sheets, with what you already know being a little treasure resting carefully in your lap.

You hold your breath and will your heart to stay inside your chest and your hands to remain steady when you unzip it.

The first thing that your hand closes around when you reach inside is something that feels like a tool wrap, but before you can even think about pulling it out to check, the back of your fingers brush against something else.

Something soft, yet rigid and... velvety.

A box.

An idea of what it actually might be flares in your mind and you heart stutters for the next few beats and your breathing gets a little more shallow when you pull out that object only to have your suspicion confirmed under the soft blue glow of the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

It's a fine, dark blue velvet box.

Like the elegant stuffed ones that jewelry stores use for gifts.

And this one is large enough to contain a necklace.

It's also unlocked.

And the only thing keeping you from discovering its contents is just the tiny, innocuous, decored metal hasp at the front.

You let the backpack slide down the bed, hearing it fall on the floor with a muted thud, but your attention remains on the box cradled in your sweaty hands.

For some time you don't do anything.

Just stay there, sitting, willing your stubborn heart to slow down to a slower, acceptable rhythm or even beat in your chest instead than in your throat by taking a couple of shaky deep breaths as you trace the contour of that box, enjoying the softness of the velvet under your touch, and telling yourself that you are just savoring that prolonged moment of anticipation, while knowing, that in reality, you are just silently daring yourself to actually open it.

You never thought that once- _if_ you would have arrived at this moment you would have felt all these strangely contrasting emotions.

And yet here you are.

Conflicted like you have felt very few times before.

And when the steady, muffled noise of the spray of the shower stops after a few more minutes, you can't help but wonder yet again if all of this inner struggle has really anything to do with Alex.

With how... intimately close... you have gotten and if that has maybe compromised your intentions and curiosity.

You're not sure you want to know the answer. Or maybe you just don't want to confirm it. So you listen to the fumble as she moves around in the bathroom before finally after another minute or so, the door opens and she steps out, flicking the lights shut behind her.

You don't startle, or try to put back that necklace box into her backpack when she steps into the bedroom, because if there is one thing that you know for sure, something that you have thought about and considered under all the messy rest that is currently stirring inside of you, is that Alex would have never left something so valuable in plain view if she didn't what you to look at it. Of that you are sure.

About the rest, however, you really don't know. The storm of contrasting feelings buzzing so relentlessly inside of you is very confusing and exhausting and makes it hard to think.

But one feeling in particular - pleasant, warm, and so strangely soothing - flares inside you over all the rest when you turn and see her there, wearing a tank top and boyshorts, finishing to towel dry her long dark mane and... smiling at you. With that famous trademark smirk that only widens when she squints and sees you sitting there with that box resting carefully in your lap. Because maybe you were right, and she - considering her very perceptive and calculating persona - probably expected to find you just like this.

If she didn't want you to search into her backpack, she wouldn't have left it in plain view. There is a safe in the hotel room that she could have used. But she didn't. And you highly doubt that this is the kind of slip that the most elusive thief in the world would have ever done.

And despite the knowledge of that very real possibility that she left it there on purpose, unlocked - a thought that has you frown inwardly as you wonder why she ever would - you can't even help the smile that stretches on your own lips and that you flash at her when she comes closer. And it shouldn't make any sense considering the situation, but for the first time in the last few minutes, you're finally able to breathe properly once again.

"Hey there," She greets you, softly, with that same smile seeping into her deliciously deep voice.

"Hey yourself." You greet her back fighting the blush and the smile on your face from turning into a wide flustered grin as she climbs into the bed, feeling the mattress dip under her weight as she settles partially behind you, close enough for you to feel the heat of her body and smell the freshness of the shower gel she must have just used.

Something with notes of ginger and oranges and almonds.

It suits her.

And it makes you feel a bit self-conscious knowing that you probably smell a little of sweat and of your... mingled arousal.

You still turn to kiss her, unable to resist the glisten of those rosy generous lips, and then melt from the inside out when Alex kisses you back in such a tender and patiently enthusiastic way that leaves your spine and lips tingling.

"You know," She says when you part, with that beautifully dashing lopsided grin tugging at the corner of her mouth as she tugs a lock of hair away from your face. "You could have joined me in the shower if you were awake."

You can't help but laugh at that and at the little excited glint that sparkles in her smiling eyes when she informs you of that.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I wasn't aware that was an option." You admit much more flirty than you didn't know you were capable of, and if Alex wasn't grinning so distractingly mischievously at you, you would have been a bit surprised of yourself too for that teasing flirting answer.

"Sex in the shower is _always_ an option with me, kid. _Whenever you want."_ She practically purrs, brushing the tip of her nose against the side of yours in such a surprising show of tenderness under that flirt that has butterflies break loose in your belly.

"I'll keep that in mind." You answer with a grin, because you just know that this is definitely not the last time you and Alex will end up like this. Or at least a semi-conscious part of you really hope it isn't.

You lean in for the rest of the way, meeting the impossible softness of her lips with yours in another slow and tender kiss, because, among all the rest of her impressive qualities and attentive expert considerate touches, she also happens to be an incredibly good kisser.

But that's hardly surprising.

The moment doesn't last as long as you hoped it would, and sooner than you wanted, she pulls back.

"It seems like something else has caught your interest." She observes when you part, bringing you back into the present, shifting her piercing green gaze to the box that has been consuming your thoughts for the past five minutes still resting carefully in your lap, for the first time addressing out loud the whole unspoken _"reason"_ that kinda got you together now twice already.

Honestly, once her lips have touched yours you have forgotten about that jewelry box altogether, and in front of that reminder you stiffen a little, biting your bottom lip. Feeling in between guilty and reluctant and more than a little embarrassed as the reality of what you have done, looking into her stuff, catches up with you.

But... there is no accusation in her statement, nor anger or even hardness in her look when her eyes return to meet yours.

You tilt your head down, thinking about an answer, an excuse, anything really, but eventually what you admit is just a simple and truthful, "I was curious."

It comes out barely above a whisper, but not tentative. Fingers caressing the velvet surface of the box that you have left unopened.

"Not enough apparently." Alex observes just as quietly, dragging you back from your thoughts about Pandora, and this time you really don't know how to answer to that.

Because, once again, unsurprisingly, she's right.

You can't believe you are letting this opportunity slip through your fingers like this.

And yet you half shrug in nonchalance, as if discovering what it really contains isn't such a big deal after all. As if you haven't spent months building up a theory that no one in the world has ever even taken in consideration.

You think you have just made up your mind, releasing a silent sigh and turning with every intention to hand what now belongs to Alex back to her and apologize for snooping into something that's never been your business in the first place, when you are stopped by the delicate hand placed gently over yours on top of the box.

At first you don't think much of it, but there is a certain delicate urgency in the sudden halt of that touch, even in its softness, that is enough to make you frown in confusion.

Only for that mild frown to turn into utter disbelief when you see those incredibly dexterous fingers reach for the front of the box and flick the hook of the hasp up to unlock it.

The breath catches in your lungs as you turn with a start to look at Alex. Lips parted in a muted gasp and a question written all over your face, but all you can say in the softest whisper is just her name.

"...Alex?"

You don't even know what you mean to ask her exactly, all you know is that many are the things that you would have expected from her when she first walked back into the bedroom and saw you there. But receiving her wordless consent with such a simple gesture, was definitely not one of them.

And when you look over at her to make sure that this is okay, even though she isn't looking at you and her expression is pretty much close to unreadable - just in the moment where you need to be able to understand and be sure of what all of this means - you don't catch any obvious sign of reluctance, and maybe that's enough; the permission that lifts some of the uncomfortable weight that had settled earlier on your stomach and that gives you no reason to fight your curiosity.

So you turn from her and take a silent deep breath through your nose, closing your eyes as you flip the top open with tentative shaky fingers.

The box squeaks of new under the effort.

...and maybe you should have used those couple of seconds it takes you to open it to prepare yourself for the sight you are met with when your eyes flutter open.

But you don't think you could have anyway.

Because what you find displayed so gracefully inside, laying on the softness of a dark blue cushion, is something that is way beyond those that were your most wild expectations.

Something that the breathless gasp filled with pure awe that falls from your lips doesn't even begin to explain.

And suddenly you think you understand why Alex is so fond and so fascinated by such items, officially confirming what you already knew being her excellent taste.

It's a necklace.

A magnificent necklace. With intricated threads of white gold and small pearls, but nothing too showy to take away the attention from the main jewel stone hanging at the center: A bright blue sapphire surrounded by an ornated base created with filaments of gold and silver delicately interlaced together.

It's breathtaking.

So perfectly, carefully crafted.

But most of all, it's simply and uniquely...

"It's beautiful." Another whisper laced with wonder, and this time, you turn to look at Alex as you breathe out those words, meeting another pair of gems. Green, emerald ones shining against the soft glow of the moonlight with a mischievous pleased - almost proud - smile of their own at that compliment.

For some reason it makes you blush, and you turn in an attempt to escape from that piercing gaze, looking down at the precious jewel once again.

You think you recognize the piece, having taken a look at the jewels that were going to be at the exposition at the Smithsonian. You don't know the name or the exact details about karats and value, but remember the shape and stunning composition. Worth to be worn by a queen. And considering the historical period it belongs to, then it probably has.

Your hand reaches out magnetically, on its own will, tentatively brushing the fingertips on the gemstone as if you have never seen something so beautiful and perfect before.

.. _Too perfect almost,_ you think with a sudden frown.

You tilt your head on the side and squint as an idea pops in your mind.

Because it's so perfect that it almost seems...

Fake.

Your heart stutters at that thought.

It's not the first time that the idea of Alex having maybe... _replaced..._ some of the jewels that she has stolen over the years with copies has crossed your mind.

You know that it's not so unthinkable. And if that is the case, then she probably has stolen much more things than the rest of the world is aware of. And so far no one seems to have noticed the differences between the stolen jewels. And you don't know how they could given the impressive details that she seems to be able to replicate with such expert precision.

You can't even help but ask her at last.

"Is this... The _real_ one?"

It's not even pure curiosity the thing that has you to ask that, but more like the wonder in knowing that Alex really could succeed in something so amazing and you turn back to her with that look of wonder on your face, because make an accurate copy of an ancient, intricated piece of jewelry such as this one would be impossible to anyone else. But... maybe not so challenging for Alex after all, whose talent as a diamond cutter and Goldsmith on her own works you know is something close to extraordinary, and whose expertise about jewels in general goes way beyond simple professional interest and fascination.

 _Yes,_ she would definitely know how to craft something so beautiful with all the characteristics that makes it so unique.

She doesn't answer right away, probably finding some wicked enjoyment in making you wait with that tenderly amused smirk curling up one corner of her mouth higher than the other, but eventually, she does answer. In the same teasing ambiguous way you should have expected she would have.

"Even though now I'm fairly sure that you don't have a wire on you, and believe me," She pauses leaning in closer and running a hand under the sheet covering your naked body stroking your sides and traveling lower, making you groan and your eyes flutter instinctively shut under that soft yet confident and considerate touch, feeling the heat of a blush warming your cheeks when you realize where she is going with those words, "I have checked in the most unthinkable places, I still think that that information is not one I'm going to reveal."

Of course, it would have been too easy having her talk even if this time busting her is definitely the last thing on your mind. You can't help but wonder if it was the case even the first.

You know that the necklace is authentic, no point for a thief in sneeking into a museum with a copy and leave without taking the original piece.

But maybe it's better if you don't know the details.

Maybe the curiosity that you felt swell inside you isn't as strong as you thought it was.

Or maybe it has been taken away from you and replaced by something more demanding in having Alex smile at you like she is doing right now, with a little less mischievousness but with still that soft edge of teasing in the subtle curl of the corner of her mouth that just makes it so... _Alex._ Not to mention that feeling her so close to you again, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, and looking into those eyes, a softer warmer shade of green against the gentle glow of the moonlight makes you forget about everything else but the deeper intimacy you have explored and expanded earlier.

"That's okay," You tell her in the end, sincerely, because all of a sudden you can think about more interesting things you could do than exchange information.

Like... "You sure about the wire thing?" You ask her, carefully setting the necklace aside before pushing your body further against hers and grabbing her hand, the one resting against your naked side and guiding it lower, down your inner thigh. "Maybe you should check again." You have no idea what has made you so daring, it could be the renewed desire that is starting to swirl in your lower belly, whatever it is, you are absolutely delighted when your boldness is met with one of Alex's naughty grins.

"Yeah, maybe I should." She answers before leaning in to capture your lips.

She might not be a jewel but there is something that definitely sparkles in Alex. And you feel the effect through that warm and bright reflection. And through the exquisite way she touches you.

It confuses you.

It actually scares you.

And it makes you kiss her with even more ardor.

But before you can lay down and go back to explore each other bodies and get lost in all the wonderful pleasure that comes along with it, you need to be sure of something first, and put to rest one more pressing thought that pushes forward in your mind. One that has to do with what you felt - with the unexplainable hollow sensation that has pierced your chest - when you woke up earlier, in the same conditions you did the first time you slept together. _Alone,_ in an empty hotel room.

So you stop her, pulling back already breathless from that kiss, looking up at her and into confused green eyes when you, hoping to not sound too hopeful or needy, ask her, "Will you be here when I wake up in the morning?"

Her frown smooths out into a look of understanding shaded with remorse as she tilts her head down and recalls last time you have been together while you pretend that the lines of seriousness set on her face aren't making your heart beat faster with trepidation.

"I know I have promised you some appropriate courtship and maybe dinner in that note I left you, and I meant it." She says at last, and the sincerity in that gaze is so strong and steady that you don't have reason to question it. "I really do like you Piper. But..." And there it is, the part you were waiting - and afraid - for her to get to, even though you don't quite expect the concerned question that she ends up asking you. "Do you think it's a good idea for me to stay?"

The implications, the millions of other questions that get triggered by that simple one...

You are not ready to give a name to... whatever this is. But you are not ready to have Alex go and disappear for who knows how long.

"No, it probably isn't," You agree after a while. But every inch of your body disagrees. Tingling in all the places her skin is pressed against yours in such a wonderful irresistible and intoxicating way that you don't think you could ever make a wise choice with her staying so close to you, clouding your judgment with the heady fragrance of her. "But stay anyway. Please." You add, not pleadingly, but there is a certain softness in your voice that you don't think you have ever used before, and certainly not with someone you barely know. But again, this one isn't the first strange reaction that Alex has triggered out of you.

She remains silent for a few long moments and you know she is pretending to think about it; the way she tries to escape your gaze and bites on the inner corner of her bottom lip is enough of a give away, and it's enough to have your heart leap with relief in your chest, even higher when she finally meet your eyes with that infamous smirk.

"I don't think I would ever be able to turn down a lady's request. Especially one asked so politely." She says, trying for suave and putting it in a generic circumstance. But the glint that shines in her eyes makes you feel like you are a very special very unique situation that she can't refuse. Maybe even... an exception.

And usually, you wouldn't trust the word of a thief...

But you are quickly discovering that there is so much more than just an infuriating teasing woman with innocent criminal inclinations in the compelling magnificent complexity that is Alex.

* * *

 **Piper is very much captivated and of course Alex is still a softie when it comes to her requests :D**


	4. Chapter 4

Hi everyone!

I'm back with a new chapter ready for you guys :D Thank you for all the amazing comments you left about the previous one, I'm so very happy you enjoyed it :)

Also, I appreciate very much that you are keeping any mentions and spoilers about the new season of the show from the comments, thank you guys, sorry to repeat it again but I still haven't started it, lol.

Anyway, here you go with the new chapter :D

Enjoy

* * *

There is honor among thieves.

You and Alex might not have had a deal, or be working-partners in a _"job"_ you needed to do together and split equally the resulting profit, but the fact that she stays the night, and with that keeps the promise she made you, it's enough for you to consider her as a woman of her word.

Humanly honest under the dishonesty of her so called crimes.

But, to you at least, the first trait has so much more weight and importance that the two things counterbalance, especially since you still don't think of her as a real criminal.

So Alex stays the night, and the next morning you wake up, so pleasantly sore in all the right places, so rested and content, and to the wonderful sight of her sleeping peacefully right next to you.

Naked perfection of soft curves and feminine hint of muscle sculpted in ivory, wrapped in silky sheets and caressed by the warm glow of the first morning lights, that smooth out her features so beautifully and bring up a stunning hidden shade of auburn in her thick proud black mane.

Your fingers itch with the urge to slip through its silky softness, but you don't want to risk and wake her up, so you just stare at her, somehow longingly, until her breathing turns a little more uneven and those soft green eyes flutter open to greet the day.

She squints a bit against the brightness of the rising sun, but still manages to catch you staring, because of course she does, triggering a rush of heat that rises up your neck to warm your cheeks in a soft blush that gets rewarded by a dashing sleepy grin and a sweetly raspy "morning, kid" that makes your heart skip a beat and shapes your own lips into a shy little smile.

When you asked her to stay the night the main thought that had crossed your mind at the moment was the one of not waking up alone and feel that weird hollow chilliness caved in your chest, but you hadn't specifically thought about the actual intimacy that a moment such as this one would have brought.

It's hard to remember last time you have shared something even remotely close to this with anyone, let alone with someone you barely knew. But you have stopped wondering about how Alex's presence has never felt like the one of a stranger ever since the first time you spoke, after that rather embarrassing incident with the tequila.

And yet, she always manages to keep that veil of mystery wrapped around her that makes her look all the more alluring... in a forbidden, almost dangerous sort of way, but that doesn't scare you. Quite the opposite in fact.

Even right now, watching her, barely awake, squinting and rolling over on the bed to lay on her stomach in between amusingly adorable grumbles, trying to escape the sunrays kissing her face.

The scene kind of reminds you of a feline being woken up from a lazy afternoon nap.

And even if you have seen how beautifully the blue glow of the moonlight flatters her already gorgeous features, if possible, the soft amber of the sun warming her flawless alabaster skin makes her look even more stunning.

And damn it, you are staring at her again, and this time Alex does say something about it besides grinning so infuriatingly smugly at you.

"Nice view?"

 _Such a smug, gorgeous smartass..._

She even stretches a little for good measure, rolling on her side, propping herself up on an elbow, doing an excellent job in making the movement look somehow casual in its elegance, smirking in satisfaction when she sees your gaze fall to where the sheets have ridden lower, exposing more of her chest and just barely covering the soft round curve of her generous, full breasts.

You lick your lips without even realizing it.

 _Exquisite,_ you want to answer, but your tongue feels thick and heavy in your mouth and when you try to swallow, your throat feels so impossibly dry in front of that breathtaking sight, while other parts of you feel... way too moist to be comfortable.

You resist the urge to squirm and press your legs together because you refuse to give her the satisfaction of leaving you speechless - and wet - like this. So you scoot closer to her, completely ignoring that perfectly sculpted amused arched eyebrow as your gaze caresses every exposed inch of skin you can find, from the slender toned leg swung over the sheets, tracing the delicious dip of her hipbone and up to her waist and chest and neck and delicate collarbone, missing only the way her expression smooths from that annoying complacent look into a lighter smile in the instant you reach her jaw, her lips, and then automatically lean in to kiss her.

It's such a magnetic, almost instinctive movement that it takes you a moment to realize what you have done and for that seemingly infinite second where your lips touch hers, you freeze, suddenly feeling unsure, because things tend to be different under the morning light.

But you don't need to worry, because apparently, this, is not one of those cases.

Alex just cups your jaw to draw you closer and kiss you back. Softly and so sweetly that not only it lifts the sense of uncertainty that had dropped on your chest but it also makes your heart leap acrobatics as the rest of your body melts and curls against hers.

There is that sort of tenderness seeping into the kiss that feels so appropriate after the night of consuming passion that you have shared. Soothing in a recovering way.

You don't even feel the need to deepen it, partially because a bit self-conscious of the taste of sleep lingering in your mouth, but mostly because, the innocent way your lips search each other's, makes it simply perfect just like it is.

You savor how Alex's lips close so perfectly with yours, making it last for as long as you can, knowing that with the start of the new day come other responsibilities and duties - mostly for her you guess - an impression that is proven right when, after a few sweet long - but not enough - minutes you part and she murmurs exactly what you were both expecting and dreading.

"I have to go, kid." The sigh and wistful smile that follow add all the weight to that those few words. "Got work to do." She unnecessarily explains, because you already guessed that much, but you still wonder, quite curiously, if such work has something to do with the new little shiny trinket that she has... _acquired._

She reaches out to tuck a strand of hair away from your face and you can't help but lean into that delicate touch when it lingers into a gentle caress, fingers tracing almost reverently the shell of your ear, a simple extremely tender gesture that dulls a bit the feeling sinking in your stomach, even though you knew very well that parting ways in the morning was inevitable.

"I know." You answer at last, just as softly, still reluctant to give up this moment and burst the sphere of quietness and contentment wrapped around you, turning to kiss her fingers, then palm, and then her wrist, delighted when you hear her chuckle at your teasingly nibbling teeth on the side of her thumb.

She pulls you closer once again, gifting you of a few more minutes of... whatever this wonderful quiet safe moment is, before she invites you to stay and enjoy the room until the check out hour if you want, but even if you appreciate the offer, the idea of staying there alone isn't very appealing, so you just disentangle yourself, reluctantly, regretfully, from Alex and take a quick shower before leaving with her.

"So," She's the first one to speak when you exit the hotel and you can't help but feel a little like at the end of a date you don't want to conclude just yet.

"So..." You echo, feeling both a bit amused and shy but not awkward as you too try to find some appropriate words, something along the line of "I had a wonderful time" but more subtle to not let yourself too exposed, but of course what leaves your lips in an eager rush after a beat of silence is a curious and hopeful, "When will I see you again?"

You wince inwardly, barely resisting the urge to groan and face-palm yourself, blushing into the most embarrassing shade of pink when your question, as expected, is first answered with one of Alex's slightly throaty chuckles.

"Well," She drawls after she manages to get a hold of her humor, with that same soft teasing smile tinging her smooth deep voice, "I was hoping soon. But... give me some time, kid."

She must definitely see the flash of confusion and not-quite-hurt that crosses your face at that choice of words, because she immediately reassures you with a promising, "I want to surprise you."

 _Oh._

The sincere smile with no trace of mischievousness that curls up one corner of her mouth with that clarification brings some relief, but it's only when she leans in and kisses you, sealing that promise right on the corner of your mouth that such relief really has a chance to flood through your veins and soothe that tension that had tightened so unexpectedly some hidden string in your chest at the doubt left by her first answer.

You turn your head just that tiny bit so you can catch more of those impossibly soft lips with your own, delighted when she gladly lingers there for a heartbeat longer.

When she pulls back your head is a bit fuzzy even after such an innocent brief kiss, and your eyes flutter open barely in time to see her throw you a wink and flash you a little smirk before she turns and walks away down the street, leaving you there, dumbfounded and staring at her retreating figure. So exquisite even from behind.

You only return to yourself and become once again aware of your surroundings and of the fact that you are standing, still, with your lips slightly parted, when someone bumps into you.

They either apologize or grumble their irritation for you playing the lamp post in the middle of the sidewalk, you really couldn't tell, and you surely enough couldn't care less. The spell that Alex's smile and that her general enchanting presence had on you gets shaken off with that collision, and yet, your gaze still searches for her where you have seen her walk down the street.

But the very elusive woman is already gone.

Swallowed and mingled among the horde of other passersby.

The sun is high and bright in the sky and the breeze so pleasant on the skin against the heat of the summer morning, that after a final look back, you turn and decided to walk on the opposite direction instead that towards the metro, with the fuzzy feeling that has nestled in your belly and the silly smile that keeps tugging stubbornly at your lips without you even realizing it following you all the way back to your studio apartment.

 **. . .**

It feels almost unreal get back home and return to your conventional, boring, newly graduated- unemployed routine after the night you had, after the turns that the latest exciting events with Alex have taken. But you can honestly say, that despite all that you had planned, you never meant for all this to get so far. At some point, your curiosity has become... Something less shallow.

And even though you still don't know what all of this truly means, you have every intention to find out, and you know that it's not just the vein of journalist in you nudging you to do so.

There is nothing on the news about a break in at the Smithsonian.

Nothing about jewels having been stolen from there. And surely enough there are no mentions about the elusive red rose thief anywhere for the next few days, so either the curator and the authorities are keeping it down to not let the media and the public know, or Alex's replacement has truly fooled everyone.

You can't even contain the chuckle that slips past your lips at the thought.

You are sitting at your desk in front of your laptop one late afternoon, like you always do when searching for a job where your skills and studies would be properly valued and taken in consideration because being a part time waitress may pay those few bills you have but it doesn't give you any satisfaction, when you find yourself spacing out again, wondering about what was so special about the jewel that Alex has stolen.

You decide to search for it on the internet and when you find the photo, your first thought is that even if they tried to exalt its brightness and beauty with the best lights and angle, there is nothing like seeing it in person, even if just under the soft glow of a full moon.

The Sailor's Promise, they call it. A petty name that devalues a jewel of such beauty into something that sounds worthless, but there is something ironic about that name, especially considering the bright blue of the sapphire and the Oceanic explorations of the period it had been crafted.

You forget your job search and just lean forward into the desk, already filled with papers and folders and documents about all of Alex's theft around the world, reading the description of the jewel with accuracy, not even a bit surprised when you find out that the gemstone is something truly exceptional.

A kind of sapphire unlike the others.

Something that has to do with its density and age, billions of years old apparently, and yet, despite the preciousness of the very ancient stone, strangely enough, it's more valued for the beauty that comes from its use in the necklace's composition than for the gem alone.

Alex might have thought differently, because her interest, considering her precedent _"works"_ at least, never had anything to do with necklaces made of simple common diamonds or pearls.

No, she stands out from any ordinary jewel thief, for so many reasons... For her formidable ambition and touch in bringing to term the most difficult theft without being minimally detected or leaving a single trace behind for starters. For her exquisite refined classic taste.

But mostly, for her daring nature; a pull that has her go after the finest and most exceptional pieces of jewelry that have ever been crafted in history.

No, Alex is no thief.

Because do what she manages to accomplish so exceptionally, eluding and leaving the entire world astounded every single time, requires patience and skill. And to you, the combination of those traits, make her job another form of art.

Just like her own other honest works of jewelry are.

And you would know that. Because, after all, in a way, for how unintentional and random, that's how you first found out and then successively came to know about her.

Because it's one of her works that eventually had you suspect of her behind those world wide famous thefts in the first place.

You shut down your laptop, and after a minute of contemplation, you reach for the bottom drawer of your desk and for the little velvety box tucked in the secret compartment hidden beneath it.

The familiarity of that softness under your touch bring you back to a couple of nights ago when you have spent full minutes just caressing the velvet necklace case resting unopened in your lap, but this more tiny one you think will always trigger a more emotional response, even just by holding it.

It's been months.

And yet your throat still closes up a bit and your eyes still sting with unshed tears, but the sight of the little box also never fails to tug your lips into a small smile.

You hold it for a moment longer before flipping the lid open and stare thoughtfully at its tiny shiny content, like you have done so many times before, letting the memory of the very first time wash over you...

 _"She wanted you to have it, sweetheart."_

 _You don't think you have ever seen your father look so lost and utterly heartbroken in all your life._

 _Not even when your mother asked for the divorce when you were still a kid, but the smile that he gives you as he hands you the small velvet box is sincere and almost proud under that thick layer of sadness that has seeped also into your own bones these days._

 _Your grandmother is gone._

 _And even if you can't understand your dad's pain quite as fully, it's still hard for you, too, to let go of her, of the one person who has always been there to feed you some wise advice when you needed it and support you and encourage you in choices your own parents didn't seem to approve as strongly and sincerely as you hoped they would._

 _You love your parents._

 _Both of them, even if they are no longer together. But the bond you had with your grandmother was special. And now you no longer have that person to guide you when you'll need it, left with nothing but the cherished memories and the wisdom you hope she has passed on to you with some of her words besides the many earthly possessions she left behind._

 _You sniffle and wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, blaming your running nose and the tears on the dust lifted by all the packing as you and your dad try to fit eighty glorious years of success and happiness into countless boxes._

 _"What is it?" You still ask even though the shape and quality of the little box are already a give away to its contents, but maybe you are just trying to fill the silence with words that you delude yourself could dull some of the ache throbbing in your chest._

 _Your father seems willing to indulge you, however, answering just as you flip the lid open, unable to contain the soft gasp that slips past your lips at the sight of the tiny object that you find nestled inside._

 _Your thought's and your father's quiet voice mingle together._

 _Your grandmother's engagement ring._

 _"It's beautiful." It's the first thing you find yourself saying, but it's honestly the only one you can think of as you observe the delicate white gold band with a little diamond set on top._

 _It's very graceful and refined in its simplicity._

 _But... there is something about the faceting cut and the very odd, very distinctive color of that gem that raises some doubts within you._

 _And you find yourself frowning after a closer examination._

 _"Is it always been like this?" You ask glancing up at your dad in mild confusion, because you had seen the ring before, years ago, but had a completely different memory about it, or maybe it's just been so long since you last saw it and observed it so accurately that you had never noticed the shades of green and gray and blue of that diamond that mingle together just so beautifully under the light._

 _Either way, the shape of this one looks... more tasteful respect the one you remember, and your father confirms it._

 _"Your grandfather had it resized and got the gemstone replaced a few years ago for their 50th anniversary."_

 _Your grandfather went too, just a few years ago, so you don't think it's been so long._

 _"I've never seen a diamond of this color before." You weren't even aware that blue-green-gray diamonds existed actually._

 _Your father on his part just looks at you and chuckles affectionately, a soft quiet laugh that even if it still has a thread of sadness and tears laced into his voice, it still sounds sincere and warm, just like the embrace he pulls you into and the kiss that he plants on your hair before he answers._

 _"I don't think that's a diamond, honey."_

The rest of the memory fades away, bringing you back into your apartment, where you are still sitting at your desk, closely observing your grandmother's engagement ring like you have done so many times during the latest months, blinking away the layer of blurriness that had clouded your eyes.

You pick it up from its little cushion on the box, holding it between your forefinger and thumb like you would hold a pen, searching for a hidden spot on the thick glass surface of your desk before pressing it down to draw a short line.

The glass creaks under the pressure, and when you pull back, sure enough... There it is again.

The indent left behind.

Your dad was wrong.

Only real diamonds can cut through glass.

And you have found out that, not only blue, green, and gray diamonds do exist and are also the rarest and most valued ones. But that also, just about the period when your grandfather got the ring resized and the original stone replaced with one so stunningly beautiful... another very precious, very unique jewel got stolen.

One that had a distinctive, ancient diamond inset in it.

A bluish-green diamond with gray reflections.

Quite unique indeed. And when you saw the picture, you had no doubt left.

The day you stumbled upon that newspaper article, of the shocking theft of a million dollars valued jewel... You don't think you'll ever forget how your heart had jumped in your chest with that strange mix of incredulity and... odd excitement.

Another piece of the conversation you had with your dad that day echoes distantly yet still fresh from your memories...

 _"Do you know where grandad had this resized?" You ask curiously never diverting your gaze from the ring in your hands._

 _You feel your dad shrug against you before he answers somehow distractedly. "Somewhere in New York. A goldsmith I think. I bet he kept the card somewhere. He always kept everything."_

He did.

And he kept the card, too.

Found it tucked into a page of one of his latest agendas.

A sophisticated black business card with just the occupations and name written on it in silver with an elegant cursive.

 _Alex Vause._

 _Goldsmith._

 _Diamond cutter._

There was also an address, that leads to what you now know is her workshop. So cozy and old in such a secluded part of the city that no one would ever think of it as the place where stolen jewels worth millions get dismantled.

You have gotten so many answers during these months during your researches, and yet, there are a few ones you still don't know the answer to, one of which, one you have stopped yourself from asking it again and again being, why does she steals the jewels only to dismantle them and use them for her own creations?

Maybe the answer is the one within the question.

Or maybe it's something that you'll have to ask her personally to know for sure, perfectly aware that she would probably never answer.

A sudden knock on the door drags you out from your thoughts and almost makes you jump out of your skin.

It takes you a moment to fully recollect yourself realizing only now how late it is when you blink into focus and notice the change of light in the room and catch the deep orange rays of the setting sun from your large window.

You stumble on your feet and cross the room, getting to the door and wondering who could ever be at this hour, but after a peek at the peephole, you notice that there seem to be no one on the other side.

Cautiously, you open the door with the chain on to take a better look, and when you still don't see or hear anyone, you swing the door completely open.

There is no one.

On either side of the hallway.

You are about to thinking that it was maybe some sort of prank from the kids in the building when something on the floor catches your attention.

And just like that, when you see what it is, your heart flips and a grin stretches across your face as you bend to pick that little gift up.

It's a rose.

A single one.

In a small crystal vase with a little water in it.

The only difference from the one you received the first time is that this time the bud of the flower is completely closed, and you can barely catch a glimpse of the red of the petals still nestled inside.

You look once again towards the side of the hallway that leads to the stairs and listen for fading steps or some other movement, but it's all quiet besides the muffled domestic noises coming from the other apartments.

Your gaze then returns to the rose and more specifically to the little card attached to it with a thin golden thread.

 _I believe I promised you dinner,_ it says in that already familiar elegant handwriting.

 _Oh, she sure did._

You turn the card over and there is an address and hour with tomorrow's date and a question mark, followed by a simple, _I'll be there._

A promise that doesn't hold pressure, but that definitely succeeds in leaving you giddy with excitement.

Your gaze lingers on the _AV_ signature and your lips shape into a much softer smile as you caress the letters with your thumb.

You already know that you are going to accept the invitation and be there, but you can't help but wonder if the young, still closed bud rose, has another meaning about what accepting that invitation would mean.

And you think you know. Because something has already started to blossom somewhere in your chest at the simple thought of a certain green eyed, raven haired woman whose infuriating gorgeous mischievous smirks makes your heart flutter.

* * *

 **I know some of you at the beginning of the story thought that Piper was somehow involved with the police or some investigation division, and if you were hoping for that, well sorry to disappoint you guys :P As long as I keep surprising you every now and then :D**


	5. Chapter 5

Hi there!

I'm back with the new chapter ready for you guys. Sorry for the wait, I wanted to have this posted sooner but then the kinky part of me came up with some... well, a kinky idea about Vauseman, and you know how it goes :P

Anyway, thank you for your patience and for all the comments you left in the previous chapter :) All your kindness and sweet flattering words really make me smile :D

Now here you go with the new chapter :)

Enjoy

* * *

There are many things that you have considered about what your dat- _...night out_ with Alex could include.

You release a breath, as if you have found your footing at the last second and avoided falling from a precipice, but the slip is an innocent one, or maybe, thinking better about it, a perfectly understandable and justifiable impression given the way she has asked you to dinner.

The woman is certainly full of surprises.

Unpredictable.

And with a vein for romance it seems, considering the young unblossomed rose that sits in its cozy crystal vase on your nightstand back home.

She definitely wasn't kidding about the courting thing apparently.

Along with her refined classic taste she might as well have come out from a romance novel.

Not that you are complaining.

On the contrary, because in its unfamiliarity, this whole gentlewoman treatment is quite refreshing.

So you have allowed your imagination loose and thought about what the very unpredictable Alex Vause could have come up with for your evening out.

Surely enough, the location written on the invite is the one of a restaurant, so dinner is definitely the promise she wants to keep, but you should have probably expected that once arrived you would have been lead towards the most secluded part, away from the main room filled with other diners and undistinctive chatting.

The woman has a thing for privacy after all.

But you would have never expected to be lead to a cozy intimate private balcony.

Where a single table with two seats and the magnificent view of the city stretching below you in all the lights and tumult that is New York at night greets you... along with the raven haired woman that has haunted your thoughts for the past days, leaning casually against the decorated concrete railing.

Your heart trips all over itself on the next beat when your gaze lands on her, wearing a dress, a stunning black dress and a much softer version of what is her usual gorgeous trademark smirk.

The rest of the surrounding and the mingled noises of the city suddenly cease to exist, until all you can see and hear is Alex as she steps closer and greets you.

"Hey there kid."

And then that smirk only widens a bit more when she sees you so stunned that it takes you a moment to recover and articulate a proper greeting without stuttering or take the last few steps without giving in to your suddenly very wobbly knees, something that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by Alex.

Alex... Who looks beautiful beyond this world's comprehension.

You have seen her naked, more than once for God's sake, but the way that black dress hugs her curves and exalts the creamy quality of her flawless skin in such a flattering way makes you feel... a lot of things.

She doesn't exactly come to your rescue, and you suspect that it's because she probably takes some kind of wicked enjoyment in seeing you all flustered, but when she notices you scanning her figure all over again with that awestruck look on your face, she just reminds you, "I told you that if I knew we met I'd have dressed up more nicely."

Nicely is a pretty huge understatement. But... yeah.

That teasing reminder brings you back to a few nights ago, and to what she told to you on your way to the hotel after her little stunt at the Smithsonian, when she was wearing just black cargo pants, boots, and a simple white button up shirt underneath the black hood.

Honestly, she looked amazing even like that. But you have a feeling that a woman with such natural beauty would look good even wearing a garbage bag.

Where most people would probably feel a bit uncomfortable by now, she doesn't seem to mind your lingering appreciative scrutiny one bit however. Looks very pleased about it in fact. And you don't know what it is about this woman that never fails - among all the rest that happens inside of you just by being in her presence - to render you speechless.

Fortunately she takes that as a compliment on its own, but eventually you recover enough to properly compliment her, with a slightly hazed, "You look fabulous, Alex."

Just when you thought that that grin couldn't become even wider and curl with that edge of mischief...

"Well, you look pretty fabulous too, kid."

You breathe out a soft nervous laugh, feeling like when you were in high school all over again as you look down a bit self consciously at your own outfit, the blue sleeveless dress that you have decided to wear at last after an hour or so of contemplation. Nothing too elegant or excessively revealing, with just enough neckline to leave exposed your collarbone and a hint of chest, and long enough to reach your mid thighs and show off what you know being your true assets. Your long legs. Where - much to your immense secret delight - Alex's gaze lingers a little longer before returning up to your face, and then briefly, to your lips.

And there it is again.

That stutter in your heartbeat.

That flutter in your belly.

That tingle at the base of your spine, as memories of kisses and intimate touches steals you away for a couple of seconds, brought back to the present only when Alex's smooth deep voice tears you back from the flash of last time you have been together.

"Would you like a drink while we decide what to order?"

"Oh God yes." You practically moan at the suggestion and then you close your eyes and wince as soon as you realize how that came out. You groan inwardly, blushing into what you know being an embarrassing bright shade of pink as you stumble over a more appropriate answer. "I- I mean... S-sure. That would be nice."

Thankfully, Alex just laughs your awkwardness away.

"Relax kid," She says with that dashing crooked smile of hers that followed by what you now consider her term of endearment for you, makes you go weak at the knees. "No need to be nervous."

"I'm sorry. I'm just..." Another timid smile shapes your lips under the blush warming your cheeks as you take another look around the balcony. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, Alex."

Once again, when you look up at her, that little smirk makes an appearance. "What can I say," She shrugs, "I like to make an impression. But I guess we can still ditch this place and go grab some greasy pizza from the Italian place a few blocks away if you want to."

You laugh then. Because there is no way you are letting Alex waste that gorgeous dress of hers and this whole thoughtful private balcony-with-view-on-the-entire-city thing for some double cheese pepperoni, doesn't matter how much you love pizza, but you appreciate the offer, and you tell her that.

"So what about that drink then? They make some pretty mean margaritas here." She says in some sort of conspiratorial encouragement and you let the playfulness of the moment to wash over you and disentangle the sweet tension that had knotted your stomach.

"Are you trying to get me drunk before dinner?"

You already expect some sort of flirty answer, instead, all you get is a smile, a real one, as she shakes her head.

"Just making sure you feel comfortable. And I thought that it might be easier with the aid of our mutual friend Jose Cuervo."

You chuckle at the joke, but there is something inside you that melts at the consideration in her offer, but most of all at the sincere and soft smile that she gives you.

"It might," You admit still a bit playfully before changing tone to reassure her, "But you already make me comfortable, Alex. It's just..." You pause, taking a step closer, looking at her up and down again, swallowing down a moan at the sight. "Your dress got me distracted."

The words slip from your lips before you have a chance to really think about them, feeling your entire face flush hot as soon as you realize you really said that out loud but not looking a bit surprised when you dare a glance up at her and are met with two perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised in utter amusement.

"Well, if it helps I guess I could take it off." She suggests, with a smile that widens into a devious grin when she hears you groan in mortification before she leans in closer and, with a low seductive voice, she whispers, "I don't remember you being so distracted when you saw me naked the first time."

That spark in your stomach returns with a vengeance, making it flip with a lot of feelings that are still fresh from that mentioned first encounter, but you ignore it, for now, briefly ducking your head to hide a shy smile as you shove her weakly at the shoulder.

"You're doing it on purpose." You accuse her.

She laughs, shamelessly admitting that she is, and that with you she just "Can't help it."

But that's okay. Because when she says it like that, looking at you with her features shaped into that softer smile, you can't find a reason to mind her mischievous teasing one bit.

 **. . .**

You think that one of the subconscious reasons for which you were buzzing with nervousness about your night out with Alex, was because you never truly had the chance to just talk like two people who didn't jump into bed together in two wonderful separate occasions and let passion consume you to a glowing exhaustion.

But oh, if that silly reason was unfounded...

And if there was even one minimal trace of concern and tension left in you, it's gone as soon as you sit down and start a conversation while you wait for your drinks.

It is pretty clear, from the first random topic that comes up and discuss, that you don't think you could ever run out of things to talk about with Alex.

She's smart.

Brilliantly so.

With a sense of humor that is up to the same level. Seasoned with some refined sarcasm that fits just perfectly with your own and makes the effortless back and forth of quips between you two even more easy and enjoyable.

She has a beautiful laugh, too.

Which is nothing surprising, but the deep chesty quality of it stirs something down in your belly that makes your breath catch a little and widens the smile on your lips into a full sparkling grin every time you hear it.

You might also be flirting a little with each other, but it's always so subtle and smooth that it makes you wonder, with that feeling of excitement swirling in your stomach among the butterflies fluttering relentlessly there.

She dines and wines you like no one has ever taken the trouble to before, but you hold yourself back from the drinking, more intoxicated by Alex's compelling company than the delicious Italian red wine she has suggested you to try.

At the end of the meal she offers you to get dessert at this place she knows, mentioning something about a lime chocolate souffle served with a scoop of passion fruit ice cream that tastes like a sin in heaven, and there is no way you are refusing, more for the company than for a dessert that turns out being something you can only define as a palate orgasm.

There is only one thing that - you only very recently discovered - tastes almost as good, and that thought flares in your mind when your gaze locks with Alex's as you suck the last bit of the now melted ice cream from your spoon.

And you know that you definitely didn't just imagine seeing Alex's eyes turn from that soft green into a much more bright, vivid shade that reminds you of the depths of a forest.

It's a date you never want to end, and at the same time, you hope it will end soon, possibly at one of your respective places, because don't think you will be able to keep yourself in check much longer in public with some of the glances that Alex occasionally throws your way. And when, on your walk back after the dessert, Alex asks you if "You're in for a night cap?" you barely manage to contain your excitement at the invitation.

You want to shoot her back an obvious, "Do you really need to ask?" but instead you just go for a safer and plain but definitely not smoother "sure" that doesn't hide one bit your transparent eagerness.

Butterflies move upwards to flutter in your chest for the entire walk to her place, making space to the curiosity and anticipation swelling lower in your belly.

It's been a while since you have been over to a date's place, and none of those dates were Alex freaking Vause. None of them ever made you feel a fraction of what one of her glances makes you feel. No one has ever treated you with an ounce of her charming gallantry.

The place where the most elusive thief who has ever existed lives, is at the top floor of a very nice building. A space that is something similar to a penthouse but not exactly, surprisingly not quite as big as you thought it would be considering her extravagant love for space.

But the first thing that crosses your mind as soon as you step in and take a general look around the living room, is that it is so very Alex. With parts of her personality scattered a little everywhere.

You fall in love with the place instantly, thinking that whoever's been here probably did too.

Another thought gets triggered by that one. One that sits strangely tight in your chest and startles you a little. Something that you can't quite put a name on, but it doesn't really need one for you to know that you don't like it.

Then you think about earlier at the restaurant, the whole arrangement of the private balcony, the way she dressed up so impeccably, and you realize what that feeling might be as for a fleeting moment you find yourself wondering if she puts all this effort with all her conquests.

That something in your belly sparks brighter at the thought of her and other women, or maybe of you being just another one of those many, many women she has seduced.

You take a sip from the Grand Marnier that Alex has just poured to you, in a naive attempt to swallow down what definitely isn't the beginning of a knot of jealousy tightening in your throat at that thought, because that would be just ridiculous, and then, with what you hope is a teasing smirk and a lighter voice you ask her if this is the place where she brings all the women that fall under her spell.

"Not all of them," She replies with matching mirth as she pours her own drink, and you almost don't catch the way her expression changes into one that you can't quite read when just a moment later she adds, "And... I haven't brought anyone here for some time actually."

Oh, you are ready to bet that she says that to anyone, but there is something in her expression, and in her voice and in the softer curl of her lips into a mischievous-free smile that leaves you wonder if maybe she's truly sincere about this.

It's not like she has a reason to lie about it after all.

You decide that it is best if you just ignore that feeling, looking around for a distraction and losing yourself in the surroundings.

The living room area is vast and open but it has that lived-in look that makes it appear oddly warm and cozy, not a look that is easy to accomplish with open spaces.

There are tasteful paintings of landscapes and photographs hanging on the walls, a nice set of modern furniture and lamps emanating a soft dim light decorating the entire space, including the large, well-stocked library that takes the entire length of the east side wall.

You approach it curiously and are not surprised to find it mostly filled with history books.

Greek Mythology, rise of the Roman Empire, Middle Ages and beyond, including biographies of the most important figures ever lived along with some classics and regular novels.

Just like you she's is a voracious reader with an insatiable curiosity.

There is nothing about geology, mineralogy or even gemology though, and when you ask her about it she just answers what you already suspected, that she keeps those books at her workshop, but she brushes off the subject of work very quickly, as soon as it pops up, with the excuse that, "I didn't invite you here to discuss work, Piper."

"So... you brought me here to show me your impressive book collection then?" You tease her back, hiding your smirk against the rim of your glass as you take a triumphant sip of the delicious, aged, orange flavored cognac.

She huffs and rolls her eyes in mocked exasperation. "Of course not. I wanted to show you my collection of seashells. I keep it in my bedroom. Wanna go and see?" She even adds a little suggestive waggle with her eyebrow, and that's really all you can take before bursting out laughing, because honestly, you didn't think she could act like such a dork.

Doesn't matter how much you try to match it, her teasing is always at a higher level.

She chuckles along with you and once your humor has subdued, she takes your hand and gives it a little tug, tilting her head towards the balcony when you look at her with a smiling frown.

"Come." She just says, "I want to show you something."

You are just thinking about another teasing quip when she swings the sliding doors leading outside open.

You have already seen a great view of the city tonight, but that's not what catches your attention when you step out onto the balcony.

You first catch the smell actually, that very distinctive fresh floral fragrance brought by the light breeze that blows up here, and then, when you follow Alex and round the corner, that's when you are met with a sight that makes you gasp in pure amazement.

"Oh, Alex." You breathe softly, looking around the dozen vases of roses decorating the entire space, making the balcony look like a secluded secret garden.

You let go of her hand to walk closer to where the vines have started to grow and twine with the wooden frame set appropriately against the wall, and delicately brush your fingertips on one of the fully blossomed roses.

Dark red petals on the outside that turn more vivid the more it nears the center.

"Do you tend to them?" You ask, turning back to face her still a little amazed.

She nods, with a little bit of pride seeping into the smile that curls her lips.

"Yes, although sometimes I'm away for a few days or an entire week, so I have a friend that comes to water them and give the vines a trim if necessary."

"Well, they are beautiful Alex." You tell her sincerely walking over to her, and you don't know what it is, but you feel the need to tell her that "I still have the one you left me."

She knows that you mean the first one she gave you, not the young unblossomed one she left outside your apartment door yesterday, but the one you have found on the bedside table of the hotel room the morning after your first time together. However, you decide not to tell her that now that rose rests pressed in between two of your favorite books after following an accurate process to preserve it in all its beauty.

That might be too much.

Alex on her part looks a bit surprised by the admission, but in a very pleased way if the little soft smirk that shapes her lips is anything to go by.

It lacks of its usual mischief however. And it's much, much softer than your little heart can stand, especially when she tells you, "I didn't want to leave that morning. But I had to. I left the rose as a promise."

All of a sudden there is a raw sincerity in that deep voice, an unveiled vulnerability in that soft green gaze that makes the breath catch in your throat at her words and makes your heart stumble over itself.

You remember that morning. As you remember the silly sense of coldness wrapped around you when you woke up alone, and then the warmth that had washed over, and the way your heart fluttered when you found the rose with that promising _"until next time"_ message attached to it.

You swallow down the tiny lump that had formed in your throat before answering to her with the softest whisper that almost gets lost in the wind.

"...and you kept it."

Maybe it is the reminder of that first encounter, or the magical evening you just spent together, of the way her close proximity her scent and her smile and the light in her eyes makes you feel when she looks at you, but suddenly you have the overwhelming urge to do what have been wanting to do for the entire evening and just... kiss her.

In the end, Alex is the one who makes the first step.

Taking the empty glass from your hand and setting it aside along with hers before taking another step closer, but you are the one who leans in first.

You meet halfway.

And you eyes flutter shut just as a delicate yet firm hand cups your cheek and a moment later your lips touch in the gentlest kiss.

It's so soft.

So silent that for the first heartbeat you think the time has stopped and you must just be imagining all of it.

But the warmth of it, the pressure, for how impossibly sweet and tender, is all so very much real. And you are afraid that your heart might beat right out of your chest for how wild it is hammering.

Her other arm comes up, wrapping around your waist to bring you closer as she cradles your jaw, tilting your head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss, running the tip of her tongue over your bottom lip, asking for a permission that you grant eagerly.

The shiver that crawls up your spine when her tongue slides alongside yours is so powerful that it unbalances you, making you tingle all over, and you are glad by the strong solid body pressed against yours, holding you up when your legs wobble as if they may give out from beneath you.

There is an infinite gentleness in her touch that combined with the sweet taste of her lips and her intoxicating scent wrapped all around you makes you feel all the more dizzy, in the most enjoyable ways.

Despite the lack of urgency, the kiss grows heated pretty soon, and you find yourselves stumbling in search for a surface to lay down.

"Alex?" Somehow, you find the strength to part your lips from hers just enough say her name.

"Mmh?"

"B-bedroom?" You stutter through a breathless moan when she takes advantage of your interrupted kiss to nibble at the angle of your jaw.

"Mansard. Upstairs." She answers as she makes her way down the column of your throat in between sweet kisses, and then she laughs when she hears you groan at the mentions of the distance and of what probably are way too many stairs for how impatient you're feeling at the moment.

But then, in your backward stumble, you hit the edge of the outdoor couch with the back of your knees, and the movement is so sudden and halting that it forces you apart for a moment.

The first thing that you see when your eyes flutter open is Alex's smirk as she looks between you and the soft piece of seemingly comfortable furniture with a look you've already started to become familiar with.

"What you think, kid? Maybe we can make the couch work?"

Your answer is to lower yourself onto it and pull Alex down with you. She laughs and adjusts, bracing herself against the cushions on the back to land more softly on top of you, right where you like her the most.

You peel her off from that exquisite dress and you don't miss the look of adoration, of reverence, when she does the same with yours.

You make love right there.

Out in the openness of a semi covered top floor balcony.

Surrounded by hundreds of red roses.

And you think that the surrounding doesn't make it something cheesy or overly romantic as much as it makes it all so very adequate.

Because the way Alex touches you and kisses you and breathes your name in your ear when you devotedly, patiently, return each one of her wonderful attentions... makes you bloom.

Just like a rose.

* * *

 **I don't think that this could have come out gayer even if I decided to add a rainbow in the night sky. Anyway... These two just had their first date and are already falling for each other. Just the usual Vauseman feels :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Hey there!

I know, I'm so very late with this update, lol, sorry to keep you waiting guys, but I'm trying to pay equal attention to both this story and the other smutty Vauseman one too :P

Anyway, here's the new chapter ready for you. To be honest, I'm not very convinced about how it came out, but maybe I need other opinions, I don't know...

Enjoy

* * *

You have no idea how, after having successfully reduced yourselves into the most gratifying exhaustion, you managed to find the energy to disentangle from the coziness of your love making afterglow and stay upright enough to get upstairs to Alex's bedroom.

You might have a faint memory of it, so faint that it almost seems like the prelude of a dream, about Alex half carrying you in between soft chuckles and affectionate teasings regarding your sated, sleepy, mumbling state, getting you upstairs, and then helping you into the bed.

The warmth of the body that had wrapped around you from behind just a few minutes later had seeped even under the thick fog of the irresistible call of sleep, and you remember snuggling instinctively back against it with a happy sigh and a smile curling your lips, a smile that widened into a drowsy grin when you felt the light brush of lips against the back of your neck.

 **. . .**

You don't think that you'll ever get over how wonderful it feels waking up beside Alex.

There is something just so oddly safe and so deeply intimate about it, not a sensation you are accustomed to, or have ever felt with anyone you have ever been with before actually.

But Alex isn't just anyone.

And being here, waking up in bed with her, feels nothing but... absolutely right.

Not to mention that she's a gorgeous sight to wake up to. Heart-fluttering kind of gorgeous, even when the light seeping through the large window on the inclined ceiling is just a soft dim.

It's still early.

There is that gray, bluish glow that preceds the sunrise splitting the sky into stunning layers of cobalt and painting the floating clouds with the faintest blush.

You decide to take advantage now that you are awake to freshen up a bit, sneaking out of bed as silently as you can to not disturb Alex, and tip toeing into the adjacent bathroom, returning to the bedroom in just a few minutes, climbing onto the bed just as quietly as when you left, and once again unable to prevent your gaze from lingering on Alex's sleeping form.

It takes you a moment to realize it however, not catching up the change in her breathing or the lack of the soft quiet snore that you had noticed before getting out of bed.

You frown.

 _"Has anyone ever told you that it's rude to stare at someone, kid?"_

Even though that deep voice comes out like a quiet rasp, hearing it so suddenly almost makes you jump out of the bed.

She peeks one eye open at your little startled, then the other, and grins up at you. A beautiful sleepy grin that touches all the strings hidden in your heart at once.

"Pretending to sleep is even ruder." You shoot back, but the smile on your face takes away any bite from the accusation.

She chuckles, lips shaping into that charming smirk as she turns on her side.

"Didn't want to create any awkwardness in case you wanted to sneak out." It's her excuse as she stretches out a bit and shrugs, but you have the impression that under that nonchalant gesture and that plain admission there is something much more fragile. Something vulnerable that shows in the brief twitch of her lips into a more authentic smile, but in the moment she blinks... it simply vanishes.

You don't think much of it, but the detail still makes you frown inwardly as it nestles somewhere in the back of your mind.

"Not sneaking out." You assure her, "That's not _my_ habit." You remind her with a pointed look and she has the audacity to look a bit guilty at that one as you slip under the covers with a happy dreamy hum when you feel the mattress dip so perfectly beneath your weight and adapt even more wonderfully to your curves. "Besides, your bed is too comfy."

She laughs then.

A soft laugh that is still raspy with sleep at the edges and makes it even deeper and so sweetly beautiful to hear.

"Is that so?" She asks with that perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched in amused questioning, "Would that be _the only_ reason?"

She's not fishing for compliments.

She knows _exactly_ how good she is.

How much of an incredible night of passion you had.

She had the proof covering her hand and wrist more times than you can remember. And the only memory is enough to make your body buzz and heat up with the distant whisper of desire.

Then her hand reaches out under the sheets, fingertips brushing against your bare leg and you think you might go up in flames just from that simple touch.

She has that effect on you.

 _No,_ you answer to yourself think about her question, barely resisting the urge moan and let your eyes flutter shut when she reaches the apex of your thigh, resting her hand there to innocently stroke the jut of your hip bone with her thumb. _It wouldn't,_ you want to say.

But instead you pretend to think about it, face frowning in forced concentration - not an easy feat considering the way she is touching you - lips pursed on one side as your eyes dart pensively on the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling, but it's a facade that crumbles very easily and eventually you can't resist the smile that takes over when you come up with another equally teasing answer.

"There is also the whole stairs matter, and I still don't trust my legs to move properly after-"

It takes you a moment to realize what you were about to say, stuttering in a pitiful attempt to backtrack, but it's too late. Alex sparkling eyes and slowly growing smirk tells you so.

You heave a sigh.

Great.

Because you were the one who wanted, for once, try and play it cool - something you are starting to think is near to impossible around Alex - and, instead you tripped over your own trap and gave her even more ammunition for the arsenal she already has.

Your cheeks flush a bit at the sight of that infuriating smug smirk that tugs even more insistently at the corner of her mouth until it spreads into a full grin at that unintentional revelation.

For once however, she seems to take pity on you and spare you some of her usual insufferable teasing.

"I guess I should take that as a compliment." It's all that she says but you are still blushing and in a desperate attempt to diverge her attention from that you just mumble a "shut up" before leaning in to kiss her.

She doesn't protest, and you can feel the shape of that amused smile against your lips as she kisses you back.

"Sorry if I woke you up," You apologize with a sympathetic grimace when you pull back, "Just had to pee. And... I might have used some of your mouthwash." You add shepishly when she catches a whiff of the freshness in your breath.

"Well either that or a mint plant has grown in your mouth overnight." She jokes.

You bite your bottom lip. "I hope you don't mind."

"If you don't mind my morning breath."

You don't.

Her lips taste sweet even when she just woke up, but she still refuses to deepen the kiss when you lean in again, limiting it to gentle pecks, and when you tentatively brush the tip of your tongue along her bottom lip in silent encouragement she pulls back with a soft chuckle at hearing your whines of protest.

"I'm afraid that if we continue like this things will escalate," She warns so very promisingly, already moving to get out of bed. "And I want to be able to kiss you properly when they do."

You can't protest to that, so you just let her go, still a bit reluctant, but taking a certain amount of pleasure simply in watching the delicious flex of her back muscles as she slips from under the sheets, admiring her retreating form as she heads towards the bathroom, all exqusite curves and alabaster skin and...

You frown.

Noticing something stading out on that smooth flawless skin of her perfect back; deep darker lines.

Marks.

That seem to resemble...

You immediately flush then when you realize what those "lines" are.

Red marking scrapes that your fingernails left behind during the heat of consuming passion.

And you remember exactly when you put those scratches there. Just like you remember when you put the similar fingers shaped bruises that you see on the perfect swell of her toned ass.

Alex is in and out of the bathroom within a minute. Not enough time for you to cool down the blush that had taken over your face, something that she definitely notices even without her glasses on and under the dim blue glow seeping throught the window. She just gets under the covers, but this time she scoots closer and - much to your immense delight - settles softly right on top of you.

You hum at the weight pressing down so gently on you and at the warmth and curves of her body against yours.

Your hands roam instinctively, fingers skimming along her side, climbing the ladder of her ribcage, while the other hand tangles in her dark thick silky mane, and this time she doesn't pull back when you urge her closer and into a kiss.

Like she said, a much more proper kiss that tastes a bit like peppermint from both but that also has that unmistakable undertone that is purely her. An essence that mixed with her soft smooth touches wakes the rest of your body up in the sweetest way possible.

Still, you both pull back before it can evolve in something too heated, not quite ready to get into it yet.

"Hey," She whispers in lieu of an official good morning, gazing down at you and looking gorgeous like no one has the right to look when they just barely woke up so early.

"Hey yourself." You smile, so brightly and fully that your dimples show up. "You know, I don't think I had the chance to thank you for last night." You admit, feeling a bit embarrassed about it, but Alex just shrugs it off with a more than valid excuse.

"We were kind of taken by... _other_ things, I believe. But you are very welcome, kid."

She strokes the shell of your ear, and that very sensitive spot behind it, in a way that has you hold back a purr, and gives you another one of those smiles, that distinctive softer smirk that has your heartbeat stuttering all over the place and gets you lost in admiring her beautiful features, in the way they shape when she smiles at you like that.

No one has ever looked at you that way before.

And you can't help but think about all the times during the previous months, and the few times that you have spent looking at her from afar, and the thought that has formed somewhere in the half conscious part of your mind simply slips from your lips without your consent.

"I wish I had approached you sooner."

Your entire body stiffens.

Your eyes widen and your lips part mutely.

Startled by your own confession and the unveiled sincerity held in it.

Embarrassment blooms deeper and brighter all over your face once more, but Alex only keeps smiling at you, with that soft curl of amusement that for once holds no mischievousness.

"We would have probably still ended up like this." It's all that she says, and there is such certainty in that plain statement, such honesty in that soft green gaze, that whatever uneasiness and tension you had felt after blurting out that thought, just floods away with the silent relieved breath that you release.

"Although," She continues, and the hint of nervousness that seeps so suddenly into her usually very cool and confident demeanour isn't certainly lost on you. "Now that you brought that up, there is something I meant to ask you..."

A new feeling stirrs in your stomach, something close to the nervousness you have heard in her voice, but not the kind you just got rid of. It feels more like anxious anticipation, and you realize that that's exactly what you feel when just a moment later she asks you, "How did you find me, Piper?"

There is no accusation, or even the slightest trace of veiled annoyance for crossing a few boundries with her privacy considering that you have followed her around a couple of times, when you thought you were discreed and invisible - how naive, because you have never met anyone as perceptive as Alex is. But... There is only pure honest curiosity in her question, and nothing else.

Which is probably what makes it so hard to answer.

Because it means that you don't have to look for an excuse. That you too have to be honest. And with Alex, for some reason you can't quite explain yet, being sincere and honest feels... dangerous.

You pretend that it has nothing to do with the level of intimacy that you have fallen into so easily and flawlessly, or with the way your heart tends to speed up even just at the sound of her voice or at the faint whiff of her scent, or to the acrobatics that it does inside your chest when you see that gorgeous smirk of hers or feel her soft yet confident and considerate touch on your skin.

You knew this was a question that she was going to ask you eventually.

 _But..._

A sudden thought pops in your mind as you're reminded of something.

 _Maybe you don't need to answer it._

Not with many words however.

Because there is _something_ that yesterday, while you were getting ready to meet her, you've pondered about bringing with you.

Something that you have tucked in your purse at the last minute before leaving the apartment...

It wasn't about confronting her openly anymore, you already have the confirmation that you needed to be sure that she was who you thought she was, and this... _thing,_ between you two, whatever it had started like, has turned into something you have no idea how to describe. All you know is that now that you are presented with that question, you think you made the right choice in bringing that item with you just in case.

You look around the bedroom searching for your bag, which is probably still downstairs in the living room where you left it last night, surprised to find it instead on a chair leaned against the wall beside the dresser, with your dress neatly folded in half on the back, and you heels set just as ordinately on the floor.

You turn to Alex with a look that is in between a suspicious frown and plain amusement.

"What?" She asks with a nonchalant shrug. "It's a nice dress. I didn't want it to get wrinkled."

You laugh, but there is something else under the light of mirth in Alex's eyes when she says that. That something fragile and vulnerable that you had noticed earlier and makes you think she might have left your things there for you to find so easily for another reason.

Because that explains the dress, but not the purse, or your heels.

Unless...

You think back to a few minutes ago, when she was joking about you sneaking out in the middle of the night and you can't help but wonder if she's used to that sort of things, or if now that you know everything about her, she wouldn't have blamed you if you just... left.

It's a concerning thought that leaves you perplexed but you file that away for later, with every intention to examine it better and ask her about it.

For now you get up once again, legs still a bit wobbly beneath you as you take the couple of steps to retrive your purse and more specifically the small velvet box hidden in the inner pocket.

When you return to the bed, slipping under the sheets beside her and, tentatively, worrying your bottom lip in thought, you hand it over to Alex, she gives you this half puzzled half amused look, and you should have probably expected the quip that comes after she flips the top open.

She looks at you and you know she is struggling to keep a straight face.

"I'm truly flattered kid," She sighs somehow apologetically, but you have already spotted the amusement and teasing in the mischievous glint shining in her eyes. "But shouldn't we go out on at least another date first? Then move in together maybe before jumping into this kind of propositions?"

You shove her on the shoulder and she chuckles, soft and deep and so beautiful that it shapes a smile on your own face too, slightly flustered, but in a pleasant way that nobody but Alex has ever been able to elicit from you.

With the teasing out of her system, she pulls herself up a bit, resting against the headboard, reaching for her glasses on her bedside table, blinking and squinting as she puts them on, in such an adorable way that it makes your heart leap with tenderness in your chest before she gets that expert professional look on her face that you find... so very attractive for some reason.

The light seeping into the room is still just a soft dim, slightly brigther than when you first woke up, but the illumination is more than enough for an artist to recongize her own work. And you think you had seen that flash of realization under the sparkle of amusement lingering in her eyes in the moment she first opened the box.

She picks up the ring from its tiny cushion to examine it more closely.

She scrutinizes it for so long, and you find yourself holding your breath and willing your hammering heart to remain inside your chest for the entire time.

"I remember this." She says eventually, voicing out loud the thought that you have seen on her face for the past minute. "And since you have it I assume that the person that came to me to have it readjusted-"

"Was my grandfather." You conclude with a nod and a knot of sadness already tightening your throat.

You swallow it down before it can sting, before Alex can hear it. But she already has.

"My grandmother passed away recently," You explain, "and... She left me the ring."

Alex offers you a smile, a sad one, and a sincere "I'm sorry."

"I remember that he was very satisfied with the work when it was ready." She adds then and you appreciate her attempt to divert the conversation towards a more pleasant memory, something that makes you smile more sincerely and happily at that simple information.

"I hope your grandmother liked it as well."

You have wondered about that too, having no recent memory of the ring itself of your own, or of your grandmother wearing it. But your dad had, saying that he always caught her smile, although a bit nostalgically, everytime she looked down at the ring after your granddad was gone.

"She did. Very much." You assure her.

"What about you?" She asks, handing the ring back to you. "Do you like it?"

You reach out to take it from her and your fingers brush together, soft and warm and sparkling, like electricity, even for such a brief minimal contact.

Your eyes meet.

Ever since you have received the ring, you have always found something... mystical about the distinctive color of the diamond. But when you answer, your gaze remains locked on two other unique green gems.

Your heart skip a beat and your breath catches a bit in your throat.

"I've never seen anything more beautiful."

By the time your mind catches up with what just slipped past your lips, you already expect to be met with a full smirk, but the sight that greets you instead, is one you can barely believe.

Alex diverts her gaze from yours, ducking her head and fiddling with her glasses, but you can still see it, because her ivory skin makes it difficult to hide the soft pink that tinges her cheeks at that blunt compliment.

It's not even a blush. Not really. But it's still something you weren't aware you could even elicit from her. Not even on purpose.

"So, I guess that that's how you found me." She summarizes, softly clearing her throat in an attempt to divert your attention from her endearing softly flustered look, it probably doesn't work as she hoped, but you pretend not to notice it too much while at the same time memorizing that faint shade of pink for when you'll rethink about it later.

"I have to admit, this kind of pillow talk confessions wasn't what I expected in the morning, kid."

"Well, we are still here," You remind her, grinning, setting the ring in its velvet box on the nightstand before scooting closer to her and her warmth under the covers, "And it's still early," You add glancing outside the window, catching the sight of the sun barely peaking its head at the horizon.

"I can't argue with that." She smiles, smirks actually, rolling on top of you once again.

"You don't have work today, do you?" You ask her tentatively, worried that she might say yes and that your morning together could be cut short, but just shakes her head, reassuring your concerns, hands already roaming over your curves, relearning them from last night thorough mapping.

"Later." She says, leaning in to plant a soft peck on the angle of your jaw, "Just had to swing by the workshop for an order. But you are more than welcome to come along if you want. I could show you the place."

The invitation is incredibly tempting. Have the chance to see the place where Alex spends most of her time, possibly watch her while she works on some of those precious ancient jewels that happen to catch her attention... Just the thought gives you this exquisite tingling feeling, and you know she already got her answer from the bright excited smile that has stretched across your lips.

"I would love to."

* * *

 **I know it is the second fluffy chapter in a row, but don't worry, there is actual plot to this story, too. Also I forgot to mention earlier, thank you for being so careful and keeping any mentions and spoilers about the new season of the show from the comments guys, I really, really appreciate it :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Hi there!

I haven't forgotten about this story guys, don't worry, I just needed some time in between this and the other kinky one about Vauseman, which I'm so immensely happy you have enjoyed by the way :D

Anyway, back to this AU, I inserted some things in here that move a bit the plot after the fluffy-fest in the latest couple of chapters, including a few info about Alex and her past. Well, kind of...

Enjoy

* * *

Alex's workshop is everything you expected it to be and at the same time nothing like you had pictured it.

You already knew where it was.

You had already seen it before.

Never from the inside though.

Just limited yourself to walk nearby and never had the courage to cross the street and ring the bell.

The building is old but well maintained, recently renovated.

The space inside is small but not cramped, it reminds you of someplace in between an electrician's workshop and one of those old workspaces used by professional photographers, before digital photos, when a darkroom was still needed.

There is no sign outside, and if it wasn't for the solid security door at the entrance and the two reinforced windows up the front, there would be nothing to distinguish the place from the apartments along the street. People walking by probably don't even know that this is a jewelry workshop, and you wonder how can Alex be in business and have her fair success in her work with no one directly knowing, but her talent speaks for itself through her creations, considering that some of those creations have become famous, even though her name is still just barely whispered among other goldsmiths and diamond cutters artists.

But that's nothing surprising.

Alex has never liked too much attention.

And you don't think it's entirely because she's modest.

You know for a fact that in _certain, specific_ circumstances and situations she isn't, and actually enjoys the attentions.

But she's never bragged about her works.

She knows to be good.

She knows she has talent. And leaves it just as it is.

It's one of the things that you... _like..._ very much, about Alex.

You take another curious look around, admiring the place with an expression that is in between surprise and wonder, because it's hard to imagine that this is where many famous stolen jewels have ended up and been used to become part of something even more beautiful.

The location and the interior of the place look just... too plain and innocuous to even consider such idea.

Alex must have noticed that expression, observant as she is, although you are not very good with subtle in general.

"Not how you imagined the place to be like, kid?" She guesses and even though she's just turned around, busy with getting a few tools hanging on the wall, you can perfectly picture the smirk that is most likely tugging at the corner of her mouth right now.

You blush a bit, both for having been caught and for the embarrassment caused by a teasing accusation that you can't deny.

"Maybe a little." You admit with a guilty grimace.

She chuckles. "Expected more of a hidden underground workroom?" She asks turning to you with a suggestive, perfectly sculpted arched eyebrow.

"Maybe I have a place like that, too." She adds conspiratorially and considering the twinkle shining in her eyes, you have no idea if she's being sincere or if she is just teasing you. _Again._ Something that she seems to take a lot of enjoyment in doing, you have noticed.

And even if you pretend to find it infuriating sometimes, it's something that you are liking more and more.

For once, however, you decide that it's none of your business if she has some secret hideout for her other... less legal... Selina-Kyle-kind-of activities.

She returns to her rustic workbench and sits down with her selected tools, flicking some lamps on and retrieving a black velvet box from the locked drawer on the bottom, that you soon find out contains hundreds of tiny sparkling diamonds, and the frame of a beautifully crafted bracelet.

White gold shaped into the most refined floral motif. So thin and elegant that lends the bracelet a fragility in its appearance that is contrasted by the robustness of the gold.

You tilt your head to the side and frown then, because you think you have seen something resembling that design before...

"I promise I won't take long." Alex's reassurance distracts you from your memory search, and the smile that she flashes you - one of her beautiful innocent smiles that has even more of a devastatingly wonderful effect on you than her teasing smirks - has you completely lost once again.

You blink into focus and watch as she puts her jeweler glasses on and picks up the first diamond with a pair of tweezers.

What she said sinks finally in, and you are a bit disappointed that you won't have the chance to watch her work for long, but you are still going to enjoy every minute of it, because if there is one thing that you have been wanting to witness ever since you met her, is look at her when she's working on something and admire her talent up close.

And the gorgeous intricate bracelet she's currently working on, accurately setting the diamonds in the apposite tiny grooves, is the ultimate proof of that talent.

Also, there is something in the concentration shaping her features that is just... so very attractive.

"Have you always wanted to become a goldsmith?"

The question slips past your lips before you really have the chance to think about it, and it's probably the only one, besides the other most obvious _"Have you always wanted to steal famous ancient jewels?"_ that you haven't asked her about during your... _date..._ last night. But you think that it's nothing to be surprised if watching her work has triggered such question again.

It seems diminishing reduce Alex's profession to just a simple "goldsmith", but she doesn't seem to mind, even though she does chuckle at your question.

"It's not exactly the profession I thought I would have ended up going to be honest." She answers, sincerely and light, still very focused on the delicate task at hand.

"But I always had a thing for shiny things. I learned the job out of curiosity when I was younger." She summarizes, but even if you can't have a proper look at her face right now, you can hear that there is something... hiding in her voice, and you know there is probably much, much more to that short story that she wants to admit. And so you press a little.

"You learned it all by yourself?"

For a moment she falters, and for how minimal, that reaction certainly isn't lost on you, nor it is the way her hand shakes a bit, or how her posture stiffens at that question. It takes her a second to recollect herself before returning to her work, and when she answers eventually, her voice comes out with such a quiet murmur that you almost don't catch it.

"Mostly..."

Before you can even think about whether you should ask her what she means or, considering her reaction, decide to leave it just like that to not risk and upset her further, Alex speaks again.

"My mom..." She explains a little louder but still so very quietly. "She was a designer. Thought me a thing or two about jewels when I was a kid."

The deep raw sadness that seeps into Alex's voice when she answers, makes you wish you hadn't asked that question.

It's the voice of loss, from someone who is still heartbroken.

"I'm sorry, Alex." You apologize, sincerely, guiltily, both for being so intrusive, but mostly for the hurt that you have stirred in having her talk about someone who has been obviously very important to her and who apparently is no longer here.

Your own thoughts drift briefly to your grandmother and you have to swallow in order to get rid of the lump that still tightens your throat just thinking about her.

You know how she feels.

"It's okay." She reassures as she returns back to work, and you catch a glimpse of the nostalgic, sad smile that tugs briefly at the corner of her mouth. "I guess this is something I ended up doing because it made me feel closer to her after she... You know."

She shrugs, awkwardly and dismissively. And you take that as a cue for not asking anything further.

If she is ready to talk about it, if she wants to share this with you, then she'll come up with it herself.

You'll respect whatever it'll be her choice. And the same stands for the whole "how and why she started stealing jewels" question.

For now however, you just want to divert the conversation and take away the sadness that has afflicted her usually cool and insufferable teasing disposition.

You never went so deep into your researches about Alex. Never wondered much about her family.

Maybe you should have.

Because apparently, her mother had a great influence on her.

"She must have been very talented." You guess with a soft smile, "They say that those kinds of traits and skills never fall far from the tree."

Much to your delight, your poor attempt to make her smile works.

She chuckles, warm and honest, and under the welcoming relief that floods through you at hearing her soft laugh, the way your heart flips inside your chest at that sweet, sweet sound makes you think that you might be struggling to stay balanced from an inevitable fall.

"You know kid, you shouldn't flatter me like that." She advises teasingly. "Compliments can get to my head."

Oh, they probably do. But she'll still be her charming modest self that you l-

"But enough about me." Thankfully, Alex interrupts your very very dangerous thoughts. "What can you tell me about yourself, Piper Chapman?" She asks, and your cheeks heat up a little at the sound of your full name rolling off her tongue so deliciously smoothly.

"You always wanted to follow strangers around and flirt with them at hotel bars?"

This time she turns to look at you when she says that, flashing you one of her infamous smirks, and even if she has those jeweler glasses on that makes her look very comic, that sly smile still makes you swoon a little.

"I'm pretty sure you are the one who flirted first." You accuse her, crossing your arms defensively over your chest, but there is that smile on your face again, the one you have to fight, just like the soft blush on your cheeks, to not let it break into a full dimpled grin.

She laughs. Deep and a bit husky, and oh so beautiful.

You adore that laugh.

"Touche. You didn't seem to mind, though." She rightfully points out, turning back to continue her work with that lingering smirk.

You decide to not address that comment to avoid the teasing you are pretty sure would come if you do, limiting yourself to answer to what was the original question instead.

"I graduated in English. And then I frequented a few courses of literature and journalism."

"Undecided it you wanted to become a teacher or a journalist?" She asks curiously and you are not one bit surprised that she came up with the two exact professions you have indeed struggled over during the years.

"Teacher was the original idea." You admit, "But once I got more involved with a few initiatives started in college I pushed a bit more towards journalism."

"Well, your instruction is more than some reporters have." She observes encouragingly. "And you would be a great one considering also your _excellent tracking skills."_

The look that she gives you when she glances back at you for a second seems to say that she means that, but you know that in reality, if Alex wanted to avoid you when you followed her around that couple of times, she would have without a problem.

Instead she just let you approach her, and the more you think about it, the more you wonder if maybe it's because she was curious about you as well.

You are not sure if it is the right moment to tackle the subject, so you just and admit that,

"To be honest, I'm still not sure what I want to do. But being a part-time waitress is not exactly what I had pictured doing after finishing my studies." You mumble with more than a hint of annoyance.

But what Alex says to you next, the honesty in her tone, takes away any trace of that understandable mild irritation.

"You are smart, Piper. And... _Passionate._ About many things and on many levels."

It's impossible however not to notice the hint of allusion that seeps into her voice and that curls her lips into the faintest smirk at that last part, but there is nothing but sincerity and a soft warm reassurance in that statement.

"You could be anything you want to be."

It leaves you stunned for a second, hearing such an open admission, and you can tell by the way Alex clears her throat and diverts her gaze from you a moment later as if realizing what she just said, rubbing awkwardly at the back of her neck clearly feign a posture discomfort before returning to mount diamonds on the bracelet, that she isn't used to say this sort of things, or that she has never been so honest and open with anyone before.

And for that, and for all the encouraging words she just said, you thank her, feeling that velvety warmth of comfort being wrapped around you and soothing the doubts that had been stirred in your mind with the topic.

She shrugs dismissively once more at your thanks, mumbling something that sounds like a "sure" and you can't help but grin, because that tinge of light embarrassment looks good on her.

By the time she has finished, just a couple of minutes later, her cool attractive demeanor is fully in place once again, fitting her like she has never let it down for a second.

It doesn't disappoint you of course, because you l- _like,_ very much, the confidence that Alex carries with her in everything she does, but the glimpse that you got just a few minutes ago, is just as compelling, even if in a whole other more vulnerable way. It reminds you of this morning and the fragility that you have seen in her when she mentioned you possibly sneaking out in the middle of the night.

"Done." She announces with satisfaction when she has mounted the last diamond and you curiously approach the workbench to admire the finished jewel.

She removes the jeweler glasses and puts on her usual normal black rimmed ones, blinking to adjust to her normal vision before she polishes the inside of the bracelet from any residue left with an apposite rag, then makes it pass through a silk cloth to see if there are any sharp errant pieces of wire that she might have forgot to smooth out and adjust.

There aren't.

But she still looks up at you and asks if, "Would you try this on and tell me if it's scratchy?"

You smile, grin actually, because you know that she is asking you to try it on because she probably knows how much you want to see it up close. And the idea of wearing one of Alex's jewels has you shudder with excitement.

And maybe, who knows, she wants to see how it looks on you.

She takes that huge smile on your face as a yes before you can voice it out loud, and she stands, reaching for your hand and expertly yet delicately fastening the bracelet on your wrist with those soft dexterous fingers of hers, so warm against the cool touch of the gold on your skin that has goosebumps erupt on your arm.

"There." Alex whisper when the clasp clicks into place, your eyes flutter open and you look down, at the refined, delicate masterpiece of jewelry wrapped so elegantly around your wrist.

Dozens of diamonds stare up at you in all their sparkling beauty and a tiny gasp of wonder slips past your lips.

"Oh, Alex." You breathe, utterly astonished as your other hand traces the outlines. "It's... It's fabulous."

There is that look of veiled pride in her smile when you steal a glance up at her, and she thanks you.

You lift your hand to examine it a bit more closely and then...

You frown.

Feeling your heartbeat stuttering for a moment.

Because the impression you had earlier for a split second was correct.

You _do_ recognize that thread of refined white gold, the curves of the floral embellishment of the drawing.

You trace the bracelet once again, and your fingers follow the same pattern they did just a few nights ago when you were tracing the outline of a magnificent Renaissance necklace adorned with pearls and a beautiful bright blue sapphire.

Even with the pearls being replaced by diamonds and with no trace of that unique sapphire, you can tell after having examined that necklace so closely the other night, that this bracelet has parts of it or at least parts that resemble it very much.

You look up at Alex with realization written all over your face.

And when she meets your gaze, somehow knowingly, the soft smile that curls her lips is the ultimate confirmation.

"Some things are too beautiful to be kept locked up where people can only see them." She simply says. "Especially when they don't belong to anyone anymore, and their owner can no longer enjoy their splendor."

 **. . .**

During your walk back home later in the early afternoon, Alex's words, _the reason_ for her extraordinary thefts, are still echoing in your mind. Most of the conversation you had at her workshop actually. But the few pieces of information you got, only managed to raise more questions.

Some you'll hope to find an answer if Alex is willing to provide them.

You get to your apartment just in time to freshen up a bit before you have to go and start with your usual shift at the restaurant. You are just getting out of the shower and towel drying your hair when your phone rings, and you are so worried that you are going to be late that you don't even check the number and just answer distractedly.

"Hello?"

 _"Miss Chapman?"_ A smooth, male voice asks. _"This is Stewart Johnson from the New York Enquirer. We received your resume, and I was wondering if you were still available for an interview?"_

It takes you a moment to put the words together, distracted as you still are, but then you remember sending your resume to the Enquirer.

It's a medium-small but respected local news, focused mostly on events happening around the city and some major news from other angles, and once you realize that they are interested in you, the answer is a very excited one.

"Yes, yes of course."

He says something more, about how impressed he was by the few college articles you have attached to the email along with one of your most rewarding essays.

 _"In your cover letter you also mentioned that you have been working on a project during these last few months. Would you be willing to share some details?"_

Your entire body stiffens at that question, your stomach flips and clenches painfully and you are pretty sure that your heart stops for a couple of seconds as an icy shiver runs up your spine.

You glance towards your desk, more specifically to the bottom drawer where you keep the folder about every scrap of information you found out about Alex, from her work as a talented goldsmith and diamond cutter, the possible links of her to the thefts, along with the ring that started all of this and allowed you to find the most famous thief that has ever existed.

Then your gaze shifts towards your nightstand and the rose resting there, which has already fully blossomed from the tiny closed bud it was just a couple of days ago when Alex left it outside your door.

 _"Miss Chapman? You still there?"_

The voice in your ear pulls you back from your thoughts and into the running present.

"Yes," You answer at last, swallowing down acid. "I've been following an interesting lead..."

There have been moments during your past few years, difficulties that you have encountered when deciding whether the choices you made were for the best. Your moral compass tends to go a bit crazy and be way too flexible when you are confronted with certain choices that could prove to be very advantageous for you and your goals.

More than once you have struggled and regretted a decision.

This time however, you don't have to wonder if you made the right choice.

"...but unfortunately it turned out being nothing more than a case of mistaken identity."

The welcoming surge of warm comforting relief that flows through your veins when you lie and offer that answer, is more than enough.

And if you think about Alex, picture her smile, the soft teasing affectionate warmth held in her gaze every time she looks at you, you know you could have never revealed anything of what you have found out about her.

To anyone.

Never.

Not even if things hadn't evolved and... deepened, like you feel they did since last night.

And you don't have to wonder if your decision could have been influenced by the strong, persistent emotions that have started beating at the rhythm of your heart every time you think about her.

Your heart has never known such cadence.

But even you can tell by the way it feels, like it's both floating and pounding insistently in your chest, that the melody it makes, sounds like trouble.

Inevitable.

But promising.

And oh so sweet.

* * *

 **Okay I lied. This still came out with a smudge of fluff :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Hi everyone

I just found out what happened in Las Vegas and... I really have no words except I hope you are all okay and safe wherever you are.

I have this new chapter ready for you guys, a very long one, and I decided to post it so maybe it will take some minds off all that happened...

Also I wanted to thank you for all the comments you left about the previous chapter :) I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and thank you for being always so kind and flattering with your words guys :)

Viva Las Vegas

* * *

The first jewel that The Red Rose Thief has ever stolen is an elegant necklace made with a simple base design of a thread of thin white gold, adorned with an alternation of black pearls and oval-shaped aquamarine gemstones.

According to the experts, it belonged to the Tudor period.

A stunning expertly crafted masterpiece that was meant for the gentry, probably a gift to the beloved of some wealthy trader, a ship chandler, that made business with distant and exotic lands.

How it ended up in North America and in the storage room of a small museum in Brooklyn is still not very clear, all that is known, however, is that despite its breathtaking beauty, the necklace has never been very much famous, but, ironically enough, it became _after_ it was stolen.

That's the first official jewel that has ever been taken and replaced with a Checkmate rose in its glass display; a flower that became a symbol that gave the name to the mysterious, elusive, most wanted thief of all times.

However, that's not the first jewel that Alex Vause has ever stolen.

Or at least that's what she just confessed...

You are at her place one evening, on her couch, because spending time together has become something more frequent, ever since your date, during these past couple of weeks, and Alex is looking at you like she is barely containing a laugh at the bewildered look that has taken over your face since she has revealed to you _how_ her very first theft happened.

You blink and shake your head to recollect your thoughts and form the question you want to ask her just to confirm and be sure that you heard correctly what she just said.

"Are you telling me," You summarize once more, still unable to keep that note of skepticism out of your voice. "That you stole a jewel because you were _dared_ to?"

It just sounds so ridiculous.

And yet, somehow, the more you think about it, the less surprised you are.

Because if there is one thing you have learned about Alex, is that she can be full of surprises. And who knows how many more of those she has up her sleeves.

The look on your face apparently is too much. She starts chuckling, amused like only you seem to be able to make her, but under the layer of embarrassment that she never fails to elicit in you, you take some sort of delight in that knowledge.

"Yeah. Well, I didn't mean to _steal it_ , actually." She confesses and from the way she says it you are inclined to believe her.

"I was working on a similar project and... I was just curious to see it up close since I wasn't able to find a proper picture of it." She explains. "So when I joked with my friend about breaking in the museum after the closing hours, she told me that I didn't have the guts to do it."

"So what? You accepted her challenge I take it."

She nods and chuckles.

"Once I found out that from the back alley there was a window that brought directly to the storage room, which wasn't even locked by the way, and that there were no cameras around, I sneaked in, searched the place and when I found it..." She pauses and breathes. Green eyes sparkling brightly at the memory. " The necklace was beautiful. More beautiful than I thought or could see in those few pictures I managed to find at the time. And it was sitting there alone in its display. _Abandoned._ So I just ... You know."

She just decided to take the little shiny necklace and bring it back to her nest.

Like a magpie.

Nope, you are not as surprised as you first thought you were.

But you surely are amazed.

"What can I say?" She shrugs. "I've always been too stubbornly proud to pull back from a dare, and my friend knew I couldn't resist one. Ever since college."

Alex realizes the mistake of letting that information slip like that too late, and she groans at the sight of your widening grin.

"Is that so?" You ask intrigued, enjoying for once the sight of Alex ducking her head and fiddling with her glasses in an attempt to hide one of her rare, delightful, slightly flustered looks.

"Then I guess that if I would dare you to... let's say _borrow_ something, you would do it?"

Despite the look of that something close to embarrassment at her revelation that still lingers on her face, the idea clearly appeals her very much considering the distinctive sparkle that you see shine into those stunning emerald pools when her gaze meets yours once again.

She tries to act cool, but nothing could ever mask that glint of mischief and intrigue.

"That depends on what you have in mind, kid."

 _Oh, this is going to be fun._

You bite your bottom lip, both in thought and to try to contain the excitement that has started stirring inside you, glancing towards Alex's vast library, and then suddenly that idea brightens even further.

"What are you doing?" She asks through a chuckle when she sees you stand.

"Finding your next target." You simply answer, stopping right in front of the library, closing your eyes and letting your fingers run across the spines of the books on the shelves, eventually picking up one with an old, slightly rough texture. A general one about the most relevant historical figures you find out when your eyes flutter open again.

When you return to the couch Alex is giving you her classic amused arched eyebrow, then she moves up to settle against the armrest, and you snuggle right in the space that she makes between her legs, sitting down and leaning back against her chest with a soft hum, because you don't think you'll ever get over how much safe and cozy this feels, and when you feel Alex presses a kiss against your temple the smile on your lips stretches into a full grin. Because it's just another one of those small innocent gestures that feel already so familiar and... right, and that has this comforting warmth spread inside your chest.

You let it wrap around you like Alex's arms do to pull you just that tiny bit closer as you rest the book in your lap where even Alex can look at it from over your shoulder, and when you open it, casually, to a page that has a picture of Charles le Hardi, you both burst out laughing.

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of me and my skills kid." Alex says in between deep chuckles that make her chest rumble so sweetly against your back, "But I'm not sure I would be able to track down a diamond that went lost on a battlefield more than five centuries ago."

You hum pensively at that, shaking your head with a smile, because you are not quite so convinced about that modest statement. "I'm not so sure about that." You admit, "I actually think you could find the Confederate gold if you wanted."

Alex scoffs but doesn't comment further, just prompts you to choose another page, and so you do, picking one towards the beginning and...

"You know, I'm not so sure this is an efficient method Piper," Alex comments amused when the book opens to a page representing one of the most powerful women that have ever existed.

One of the most famous Queens who has ruled the ancient Egypt.

You barely catch Alex's comment though, too focused in admiring the picture of a portrait of a young Cleopatra.

A goddess dressed in gold, with long dark hair, and the posture of someone who doesn't only own strength and confidence, but embodies them.

You can think about someone who happens to have those attractive traits standing out just as strongly.

You feel a bit silly for comparing them, but there is that unique striking beauty and that confident demeanor and the well-known hedonistic, pleasure seeker philosophy, that simply has your thoughts drift towards the stunning woman you are leaned right against.

You glance over your shoulder at Alex, and beside her fair, lighter skin tone you can see some resemblance, enough to picture her coming out naked from a bath of milk.

You make the mistake of telling her that - because apparently the barrier that keeps your thoughts from slipping past your lips tends to disappear around Alex - and so you suffer from the inevitable deep blush of embarrassment that flares in you at teasing that comes along as she chuckles at that comparison.

"Is this your way of telling me that you want to try out some Cleopatra and Mark Anthony role play?"

She is joking. Of course she is, but... There is that glint behind the teasing that you have started to associate with something similar to intrigue, and the idea actually is kind of captivating.

Before you can say anything about it however, Alex continues, lowering her voice into that slightly deeper tone that sends a shiver of delight down your spine and has goosebumps erupt on your skin.

"Because if it is, I'm not sure you could play the part of Mark Anthony."

That remark tears you back from the haze of Alex's hypnotic sly smile and your features shape into a look of indignation that of course only amuses her even more.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know, he was quite the Casanova. _Very bold._ He used to lift the tunic of his uniform just to show off the muscles on his legs." She says, giving you a look that seems to say, _"and that doesn't seem your style kid."_

You narrow your eyes at her.

There is only one way to end her teasing and wipe that smug gorgeous smirk off her face, and that would be prove her wrong.

Because _oh if she is..._

Just because she can top you and make you scream her name from the top of your lungs in pure ecstasy doesn't mean that you get vertigo if you would switch positions for once.

And you are about to show her that.

Faster than she can blink, you turn around and flip your positions, straddling Alex's waist and successfully pinning her against the couch.

"Is this bold enough for you?" You ask her, grinning, victorious and rightfully smug.

But despite the look of surprise on her face Alex doesn't seem too disappointed by the change of position, or at least that's what you take from the devious smirk that splits her face once her eyes blink into focus again.

"Nice claws kid," She compliments impressed instead, "Have they always been there?"

Ugh.

So damn infuriating.

You nod. "I only pull them out when I'm _dared_ to, though."

"Well, It's a nice look on you," She says sincerely, and looking definitely intrigued by this side of you. "But I think I still prefer you in a position where you can be more... _accessible."_

That deliberate suggestive term said with that deep slightly husky voice is so distracting that you catch too late Alex's intention and she takes advantage of it to flip you over once more.

You yelp and squirm and wrestle in between protests and giggles, but eventually, Alex and her impressive upper body strength get the better, and soon enough you find yourself on your back with Alex hovering above you, pinning you down with the gentle comforting weight of her body.

If you had any fight left, it is gone as soon as you feel her settling so softly on top of you like this and see her smile down at you with that look of amusement that doesn't hide the affection that she is struggling to not show too transparently.

That same emotion that is beating frantically along with your heart.

You surrender, and reach up and lace your fingers through her mane, urging her down until your lips meet into the soft brush of a kiss.

It's gentle and delicate, but it doesn't stay like that for long.

It loses its innocence pretty soon, in the moment you tease her by running the very tip of your tongue across her bottom lip, a gesture that is met with a quite eager response as Alex part her lips and promptly deepens the kiss.

You moan when her tongue first slides alongside yours, with such gentle dominance that you don't even think about fighting her, more than happy to surrender to the feeling as your hands roam over her back - enjoying the play of lean muscles under her shirt - and your leg hooks against her hip to bring her waist closer to yours.

It wasn't your intention turn a kiss into this, but you surely aren't going to complain about it.

The heat that rises between your bodies grows consuming and hungry for more despite what may or may not have been your first intentions.

When you part it is only to take in a few sips of air, but you take advantage of the moment to discard the few clothes you have on as well.

You end up laying on your sides, facing each other, skin against skin, with Alex resting against the back of the couch and wrapping a hand around your waist to hold you close to her and considerately preventing you from falling over.

The book that had somehow managed to stay perched just over the edge of the couch during the previous commotion however, falls with a quiet muted thud on the carpet. The little game you had started already forgotten as you get devoured by the new more insatiable need that is flaring in you for the other's touch.

"Alex..." You plea her a little breathlessly in between kisses, not quite knowing what you are begging her for and at the same time overwhelmed by what and where you want to feel more of her.

But Alex already knows what you need.

She always does.

And she breathes it against your lips, so softly and reassuringly, just like her gaze is when her eyes meet yours, piercing through the haze of lust.

"I got you."

The emotions that you can see swimming in those deep emerald pools along with the flecks of gold shining at the bottom leave you breathless, but with her reassurance, her unspoken promise to take care of you, you allow your lungs to expand to take more air, and consequently, the rest of your body melts, even further under her comforting, promising touch.

She traces your curves, slowly but not teasingly, mapping them all over again in a way that has you shiver with anticipation and swallow down a whimper of relief when she finally dips her hand past the jut of your hip bone and between your legs.

She finds you already wet, aching and ready for her.

The first touch of her fingers on you feels like heaven, and the delighted groan that rumbles in the back of her throat at the slickness that she meets between your folds is almost enough to make you come.

As a further, although completely unnecessary encouragement, you bend your leg at the knee, resting your foot on the cushions of the couch to spread yourself a bit more and give her more access just as your own hand makes its way down her toned stomach, reaching between her legs, slipping through the soft short patch of neatly trimmed hair and between inviting warm slick folds. Because there is nothing that can make this all the more perfect and complete than touch Alex and please her while she pleasures you.

Her clit is hard, throbbing, begging for your attention, and she groans in your mouth and her hips give a little jolt when you circle it with a first gentle stroke.

You smirk in satisfaction against her lips at that intense reaction, but it's a look that is quickly wiped off your face as, in the moment Alex starts circling your own clit, you are forced to tear your lips away from hers and throw your head back as a deep moan gets ripped from your chest.

You are both so wonderfully wet and growing even slicker with each drawn circle, but you still manage to find the perfect rhythm.

She holds you so close to her that the air you breathe is the sweet heady essence of the other.

Your bodies seek the other's instinctively, following each movement, completing them in sync. Hips canting forward, meeting the lost pressure, you maybe - unsurprisingly - a little more insistently than Alex, and that's probably what encourages her most in going a little lower, to rest her fingers right against your twitching entrance.

You gasp, breathlessly and needy and all it takes is whisper a shaky "please" against Alex's lips to have her give in to something that is also one of her most burning desires.

She applies a little more pressure and that's more than enough.

Her long digits slip effortlessly inside you, so smoothly and exquisitely that the sudden sensation of being filled so deliciously has your eyes well up with tears from the immeasurable relief and pleasure it brings as your entire body shudders against hers and your inner muscles clench possessively around those long talented fingers.

The rhythm she chooses for her thrusts is purposeful but slow, because she doesn't want you to come too soon, something that seems right around the corner given the way you keep fluttering and tightening harder around her each time she thrusts back inside.

The pleasure that every single calculate thrust brings is so very distracting, but not enough to make you forget about Alex's own needs, or interrupt your steady pace of firm yet gentle strokes across her hardened clit.

The sweet smell of her arousal mingles with yours in the air, thick and syrupy, and your mouth waters with the almost overwhelming need to go down on her and taste her, but she feels so good pressed like this against you, holding you so securely, breathing groans, pressing kisses and nibbles along the column of your throat.

Skin against skin.

Heartbeat against heartbeat.

And maybe it's this closeness that turns out to be your undoing, the overload of sensations and feeling brought by this infinite intimacy that accompanied by her expert touch and the knowledge that you are also bringing her closer to the edge with each swipe of your fingers across her clit.

All you know is that when her fingers curl so beautifully inside of you, once, twice, three times precisely stroking that sweet magic spot against your front wall, it's too much.

And you can no longer hold back.

You come with a long breathless moan of something that resembles Alex's name, clutching down hard around her and holding tightly onto whatever part of her you can reach, and maybe she was already close herself, more than you realized, or maybe your fingers continuing rubbing her even if in broken stuttered circles combined with feeling you trip over the edge is enough to bring her down with you.

And you couldn't be more delighted.

Because if there is one thing that can heighten your pleasure even more is feeling Alex reach hers so powerfully that her entire body tenses up and then shudders, hard, with each wave of bliss that assaults her as her hips keep seeking for your hand, following the rotation of your fingers over her clit to drag out everything she has just as Alex encourages you to do the same with her fingers, stroking even more insistently that spot inside you, something that eventually earns her a gratifying jet of wetness as a second release gets teased out of you and coates her hand.

It's so intense and breathtaking that your entire body buzzes with its devastating effect for what seems to be an entire minute, and the only feeling you register beside it when, eventually, it starts to subdue, is the one of Alex's lips as she presses soft slow sweet kisses on your cheek, your jaw, your nose, the corner of your mouth and whatever part of your face her lips can reach, so softly that your heart soars and swells and aches with emotion inside your chest.

You have never felt so adored before.

Never been treated so... preciously.

You stop your movement across her clit and just cup tenderly and apologetically her sex when Alex hisses softly and pulls her hips back in overstimulation in the moment you attempt to rub her some more.

But when you whimper and clutch down - although much more weakly - around her in the moment you feel her move with the intention of pulling out, she chuckles and decides to keep her fingers inside you, for just a little longer, not quite sure if you'll be able to give up that delightful stretch and perfect pressure inside you, but still allowing Alex to withdraw her fingers a couple of minutes later when your inner muscle loose their grip. And she does it so gently and slowly and considerately that the feeling, combined with the one brought by having her so close to you, makes up for the loss of that delicate pressure inside you.

She is the first one to speak, and while you are not yet ready to get fully back into your own body, you are also grateful for the distraction that her voice provides from the increasingly dangerous thoughts about... feelings, that keep running in the background of your mind.

"You are way too distracting kid." She says, voice rough and deep, still filled with sex, a bit breathless and strained with a tinge of exertion, but so delicious to hear, with that note that is both tenderness and teasing. She doesn't even try to make it sound like the half-hearted protest you know she wanted it to sound like, and that has you grin up at her in satisfaction.

"Just trying to keep you on a straight line." You tell her and she scoffs, making a face at the _straight_ part.

"That is going to be impossible, for more than just one reason." She jokes flashing you one of those sly smiles of hers.

She can be such a smartass.

It is comfortably quiet for a few moments. Just the sound of your breathing returning back to normal as you recover, and the tender look, the soft lopsided smile that Alex gives you as she runs a hand through your hair and you lean instinctively into that impossibly gentle touch.

"You shouldn't hang out with someone like me, Piper." She says then, oh so softly, with that same tender smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, but the seriousness of that comment is too heavy, so much that it immediately changes the air around you.

You frown and pull back a little to look better at her, in search of an explanation that she doesn't wait to deliver.

"You are young. Smart, and with a lot of possibilities in your life, and I..." She breathes through her nose, shaking her head pensively, "I could get you in trouble."

"You could get in trouble even without me." You point out, but she just shrugs.

"I'm used to it. Never been too concerned about it as long as I don't end up in a Turkish prison. And I've always been careful anyway."

"So what's the problem if I stick around then?" You ask her following her logic and this time she chuckles and shakes her head in defeat, resigned that you won't listen to one more word of her nonsense - although considerate - warnings.

"You got me there kid."

She looks ready to drop the subject, for now at least, but you still feel the need to reassure her and softly remind her that, "I can make my own choices Alex."

You accompany that statement with a smile, taking her hand in yours and intertwining your fingers together, but she already knows that you didn't mean what you said as an accusation.

"I know that." She answers knowingly, "I just want you to remember with whom you are involved with."

Despite the seriousness of the topic and the tone of her voice, you can't prevent your heart from doing a little flip in your chest at that "involved with" part.

Yeah... _You are._

And on that account, you also feel the need to tell her that, "You don't look like a criminal to me, Alex."

Her lips twitch in a brief smile at your words, a bit sad, but holding the truth that you both know.

"But I am."

You know that there is no way in convincing her, and it's not what you want to do right now, but you still want to remind her something very important, just in case she might be struggling with some doubts.

"You could always... stop, you know." You simply tell her, softly, as if afraid to spook her. "You have incredible talent Alex, and have nothing to prove to anyone anyway. Not with your jewels and certainly not with your other... activities."

She chuckles at your choice of term, but shakes her head at the rest.

"It's not just that. It's... _the thrill,"_ She explains. "The rush of adrenaline that I get every time I do it. It's addictive, and highly intoxicating. And the jewels..."

Her eyes flutter shut as she licks her lips and sighs dreamily.

"There is no feeling like it in the world." She breathes when her eyes flutter open. But the way she pauses and then looks at you, and then glances down at your lips, over your body before meeting your gaze again... _that look_ gives you a glimpse of another very powerful very dangerous wonderful feeling that could be even better than the thrill she gets during her elaborate extraordinary thefts.

Or maybe that's the same one, although warmer and completely criminal-guilt free, that she got when she snuck into your chest and started digging her way into your heart, with her smooth talk and charming smiles and lingering gazes and gentle touches and head spinning kisses. Seeking for the purest part of its beating core. Right where your emotions live.

At least that's what you feel.

Every time she even just looks at you.

You distract yourself just in time, choosing to focus on Alex's so-called criminal double life instead of wondering if she feels the same about you. Maybe because you think you already know the answer but don't dare yourself to think too much about it. Like some sort of feeling's defensive mechanism.

"Let's just pretend, for just a minute, and say that you have the possibility to... obtain," You say lacking a better, more appropriate term, "One more jewel. What would it be?"

"Just one?" She sputters, green eyes widening into an incredulous look, and you are not sure if it is sincere or just a mocked reaction, but you can't help but chuckle at that look, which turns out being one of pretended shock when Alex's features shape into a smirk and she starts chuckling along with you.

She takes her time thinking about it and you enjoy the sight of her going through the folders in her mind, humming occasionally at whatever idea has come up in that brilliant mind of hers. But eventually, her expression, from excited and intrigued by the possibilities, softens and... saddens... somehow, and when she answers, you have the impression that she already knew which one she was going to end up choosing since you first asked that question.

"There is one that has been in my mind for a very long time."

With that she stretches her arm and without disturbing too much your comfortable, cozy, tangled position, she reaches for her phone on the coffee table and after a couple of minutes of scrolling through photos she pulls out the image that is the picture of a slightly faded picture of a stunning faceted green bluish gem.

"Wow."

You angle the phone better towards you, and even if the slightly more raw definition probably doesn't give it justice you can still say that it looks beautiful.

"What it is?"

You can't understand whether it is more blue or green though, but Alex has an explanation for that.

"It's a beryl." She says. "The same mineral that combined with other substances is known can form emeralds and aquamarine. This one has too much iron to be an aquamarine though, and too little chromium to be considered an emerald. It is... something in between."

Just another way to say that is just another something absolutely unique.

"It's really beautiful Alex." You compliment, once again absolutely fascinated by every word she says when she reveals some other details to you.

She talks about it as if she has seen it in person, held it even, and those details that she reveals so easily has you believe that she must have properly examined it, and so, after she has finished, you can't help but ask, out of curiosity, "How do you know all this?"

She smiles, and this time, even before she can answer, you already know where the discussion is headed. Because you recognize that sad, heartbroken, nostalgic smile.

"Because it was my mother's."

And there it is.

The lump that she has to swallow down in order to talk, and one that you feel echoing in your own chest. Tightening your heart in a painful grasp on its way down.

"She left it to me. But it went... missing, along with a few other gems she had, after she died. At first I thought that she might have hid them somewhere but..." She shakes her head, clearly still not convinced by that idea, and you hope it isn't the one that pops in your head.

"You think someone stole it?"

She makes a noncommittal sound at that, or maybe she is just a bit distracted by the photo.

"I can't rule it out. It's been a long time. Even longer since she bought it, but even back then I knew that the gems dealers she used to have business with were an arguable bunch."

"Wait," You interrupt her, frowning in confusion at that information. "I thought your mom was just a designer."

"She was." Alex confirms, "But designers must know about gems, too. Collecting them was just... one of her hobbies."

One that she passed along to her very smart daughter apparently.

"Have you ever tried to find out where it might have ended up?"

"For a time. But after one too many unsuccessful leads I gave up. Decided to focus on other stuff, on other beautiful shiny things," She replies with her trademark smirk, "And after that my attention was turned... somewhere else."

She looks at you then, quite obviously in her usual careful subtlety, and this time it is your turn to smirk a little. Because, she _did_ call you "distracting" after all.

You don't ask her anything else, because you don't want to risk and make her relive something painful and reopen some old but still not yet healed wound.

But as you snuggle in her embrace when she pulls a blanket from the back of the couch to cover your naked bodies, you look at the picture one more time and then think. Resting your head where her shoulder and chest meet as she wraps an arm around you to hold you close.

She tried to find a gem, something that really means something to her, something that rightfully belongs to her, _on her own,_ with little resources, and probably she was way too hurt to properly focus on such venture.

But maybe you can be of help.

You bite your bottom lip in thought.

Maybe with a few more information, you can track down that gem.

After all, you found Alex.

* * *

 **Yes, this AU Alex is still into the whole role-playing thing :D Decided to spice things up a little since you guys also mentioned that you were missing some sexy times :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Hi there!

I know it's been a while since the previous update, sorry guys. Also, this chapter isn't Vauseman-centered, but there is some important plot stuff and the introduction of a new well-known character :)

Enjoy

* * *

Alex has filed a report.

An official report to the police regarding the gemstones that went missing.

The thought of the most notorious thief going to the police to report a robbery would be more than enough to make you snicker, if only it wasn't for the fact that it happened shortly after her mother passed, and before she earned the title of most wanted jewel thief of the world.

The case is just one like many others regarding robberies. Still open, but surprisingly enough it isn't abandoned.

It's quite the contrary, in fact, you find out when you go to the precinct and ask about it.

"I'm a reporter." You explain with a smile to the senior lady officer who is in charge of the files processing thing, a redhead in her late forties wearing a bored expression on a severe face, but who probably barks louder than she bites, even though she's giving you a suspicious look that would make you squirm a bit if you weren't so determined in obtaining this information.

"Freelance reporter." You add a bit self consciously after a beat. It feels a little less like a lie, because even though you might have accepted the offer from the Enquirer, they still told you to return to them with an article, but saying it out loud sits a bit uncomfortably on your chest anyway.

It's more than enough for the officer however to divert her gaze from you, looking somehow on the edge of being annoyed actually for you interrupting her crosswords or whatever other busy activity she was doing before you came in.

She fiddles with the computer for a few minutes, noisily chewing a gum, and you try not to tap your foot or drum your fingers on the counter with a mix of impatience and nervousness and maybe a bit of apprehension too as you think about what would you find.

You get pulled back from your contemplation about how are you going to move forward in case you'd find something interesting by the sound of a printer as the officer pulls out the files before handing them ordinately to you.

You thank her but frown immediately after a first quick scan of the first page of the documents.

Half of the of the report has been canceled, most of the important things regarding the investigation has been covered with black stripes. You check the other pages, but it's the same illegible mess of stripes crossing entire lines.

You glance up at the officer with an arched brow. "That's it?"

"The rest is classified." She explains after taking another quick glance at the computer monitor. "Ongoing operation. Feds are on it."

At that you frown even harder.

Feds?

Ongoing operation?

It's been years since Alex filed this report.

What do the feds have anything to do with the possible theft of some gems?

"Are you supposed to be giving me this kind of information then?" You ask suspiciously, but the officer, unsurprisingly, just shrugs disinterested.

"That's hardly any information at all, sweetheart." Yeah, she has a point. You let out a breath of frustration through your nose as you look down at the unreadable papers. No wonder that getting them it's been so easy.

"You can try to go to them if you want." She suggests then, sitting back down on her chair and picking back up the newspaper from the counter to return to her busy schedule. "They aren't going to tell you shit."

No doubt there.

You just mumble your thanks and leave, heading towards the elevator with the weight of disappointment settling in your stomach, slumping your shoulders and knitting your brows, knowing that you'll have to figure out another way to get your information without asking directly to Alex.

She doesn't know anything about your little investigation, and even if you are just trying to help her, the guilt that you feel swirling with the disappointment for not saying anything to her about it is inevitable.

You might not have labeled your... whatever it is that is going on between you two, not very sure about what it is exactly, but of two things you are sure. The first one being that you know that Alex appreciates honesty, and the other one is that she wouldn't like one bit what you are doing, and for a whole other reason than being just annoyed with you for nosing around something like this.

Actually, strangely enough, you have the unsettling feeling that she would be much more upset about you searching information about this case than what she actually isn't for the fact that you know about her identity.

It is when you are descending to the lobby, when all those nagging feelings start swirling in your belly and tightening uncomfortably your chest in the already confined space of the elevator that in your distracted examination of the first page of the documents and under the bright light of the ceiling, you notice something.

Your seemingly permanent frown deepens even more.

It's barely anything at all at first, but when you scrutinize the report a little closer, you notice with a startle of hope that some of the lines in the first couple of pages have been canceled with a black marker, not in digital like the rest. And even though its a printed copy, if you angle it just in the right way...

Yes.

You can make out some of the words beneath the ink.

You try not to let the spark of excitement that gets ignited in your chest to get fueled too much, and it's not easy preventing it to burn too brightly, but a smile stretches across your lips and grows into a full wide grin despite your efforts.

You have an idea.

It's still a long shot, and you haven't done anything like this before, aren't even sure if it is going to work at all, but as soon as you get home you scan the pages and open them with a graphic editor software used mostly for photos. You don't get your hopes up too much, in fact, it turns out being more frustrating than you thought, but after some fiddling with saturation and hue and lightness you finally find the perfect adjustment that allows you to read better the parts that have been canceled with the marker.

It's a small victory, but knowing that you managed to get some information on your own has that feeling of satisfaction and pride swell with a pleasant warmth inside you and spread a wide smile on your face, but that sensation is nothing compared to the flutter that echoes much more strongly in your chest knowing that you are trying to help Alex in recovering something that means a lot to her.

Most of the few pieces of information that you manage to recover are poor developments in the investigation, about when it first started you presume, but the list of suspects that follows on the next page is much more promising. It is also a short one and when, more than once, you come across the same name, you think you know from where you'll move on next.

 **. . .**

The mansion is immense. Even more from the inside than what it already appears from the outside.

The high ceilings and vast rooms amplify that impression even more, but you try not to look too much around you and try not to appear too awed by the decorations and paintings and statues and pretty much everything else that is adorning the place, admiring them with subtle intrigue and discreet appreciation as you are lead into the main room where you imagine all the business is dealt with.

"You haven't been very specific on the phone. Is there something in particular you are interested in, Miss...?"

"Wilder." You supply, smiling politely and taking a seat when your host gestures you the elegant leather couch in the spacious, sumptuous office. "And yes, actually there is. A friend of a friend made your name at a party, and she was wearing this bracelet made with the most stunning red diamonds I've ever seen."

You have never been proud of your ability - or rather incapability - to lie so bluntly, too many little twitches and asymmetries in your expression and in the gesticulation were an easy give away, but today you hold your head high and keep your face straight and you voice secure and confident, because despite that, your own researches about this gentleman during the past couple of days have provided you with all the information you needed about the whole trading gems business he runs.

The compliment sounds so sincere that he looking just very pleased and flattered by your words.

"Diamonds are my specialty," He says, a statement that is tinged with pride under the thick exotic accent of a faraway land. "I own a mine back in my country. But I can easily manage to obtain some sapphires if you prefer. Something that would compliment better your eyes perhaps."

There is no hidden meaning or allusion or anything edging to something other than just a professional observation in the comment or even in his gaze when his dark eyes search and examine the shade of light cobalt in yours, nonetheless you still feel a bit self-conscious under the scrutiny, but you recover quickly, remembering what you are here to do.

"Sapphires would be preferable," You admit, "But I was actually thinking about something with a shade of green, emerald-like maybe?"

And at that suggestion, your host nods and smiles knowingly.

"I think I might have exactly what you are looking for Miss Wilder."

With that he stands walking over to the library near the desk, retrieving one of the many leather binders piled ordinately there and you take the occasion to gaze around the office, searching for nothing in particular, but taking in whatever detail you can file, noticing the two cameras on the ceiling, one pointing to the door the other on the desk and large sliding door window leading to the balcony outside, diverting your gaze from it just when your host returns to sit on the couch in front of yours, handing the binder to you. "Like I said, diamonds are what I deal most, but I sometimes manage to make deals to extract other valuable gems from mines scattered all over the world."

You nod along as you take a look inside, discovering pictures of gems in every possible shade of green, from the brightest emerald to the faintest aquamarine, all stunning and-

Suddenly you freeze.

Hand stopping in mid-turn of the next page because...

There it is.

The secure relaxed posture you have taken you can't even help it when your entire body stiffens that tiny bit in front of that photo.

Something close to a deja vu twines with a foreign feeling in your chest making it incredibly uncomfortably tight. It sucks the air from your lungs.

Because the picture is same exact one that Alex showed to you, although much more brilliant. In a higher resolution that makes it all the more vibrant. It almost seems to be sucking the light seeping into the room.

And that shade of blue...

So gleaming, so lustrous.

Unique.

Your speechlessness and the look of shock on your face are misinterpreted as understandable awe from your host in front of that jewel.

"It's a very exceptional piece." He says with an approving nod, not noticing the brief twitch of anger in your jaw. "One of the most valuable in here. Two and a half karats. Approximatively two thousands years old."

That detail echoes from your memory, of when Alex revealed that little information to you, and you have to refrain yourself from asking an accusing "Where has it been found?"

Instead, you take a breath and fake a smile of delight and profound interest, trying to control the spike of nervousness in your fiddling fingers.

"Is it still available?" You ask, and the pleased sharp smile that takes over your host face is answer enough.

"Of course. You have excellent taste, Miss Wilder. But don't forget, the gem is only a stone, one that must be crafted carefully from an expert not only to be given the right shape, but to bring out all its beauty."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." You answer sincerely, with a twinkle in your eyes, "I know just the right gem cutter for the work I have in mind."

He looks at you curiously then, seeming to ponder something over and you don't know whether it is good or what, but you get this strange feeling that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on, like a caution warning.

"If I may," He says eventually, apparently having come up with a decision. "I'm giving a party in a few weeks, I'll be holding some sort of private auction, getting rid of some of the paintings and other things I have collected over the years to support my other business. Consider yourself on the invited list Miss Wilder, and feel free to bring someone with you. We can discuss a price that night if you like. And of course, I'll have the gem with me so you'll be able to admire it in person."

"I'm sure we can come down to a deal." You say, shaking off that sensation that makes your back tingle unpleasantly, trying not to let too much of your antagonism transpire with the tight smile that shapes your lips and that luckily he doesn't seem to read much into it as you stand smooth out your expensive dress and accept his hand to shake, "And thank you for the invitation, Mr. Balik."

 **. . .**

When you finally leave the estate the sun has already started to set at the horizon, projecting much longer shadows in its wake as you head towards the closest subway to get back home.

The streets are near to desert in this neighborhood at this hour compared to the rest of the city, which is good because the last thing you want is to pay attention to others around you and accidentally shoulder other passersby over as you make you frustrated way home.

A part of you wishes that you hadn't been successful in finding that gem, that you hadn't searched for it in the first place. What are you going to say to Alex? Should you even tell her anything? You can't imagine a scenario where revealing what you have done will turn out being okay to her.

Your mind is so full of questions and your chest so tight with a contrasting combination of emotions and doubts and a shade of subdued pride - because your finding has turned out being successful after all - that it takes you a few moments to realize that you are being followed.

Call it paranoia or whatever, but you have had chills tingling your spine ever since you got inside that mansion. Even more when you got out. And you wonder if it is because you felt... Observed.

Once you reach the end of the block and wait for the light to turn green at the stop before crossing, you glance discreetly over your shoulder, but don't see anything and no one suspicious. You just cross the street and walk another block, take the same turn you did earlier from the subway when you arrived, listening carefully for that cadence of steps that you have registered, resisting the urge to just turn around once more and scan the few people behind to see if there is indeed someone plainly following you and not just heading in your same direction, which is highly possible considering where you are going after all.

But for how much you try to push it down, that feeling won't leave you alone. So you swallow and hope you are wrong about that as you scurry down the steps to reach the underground entrance of the subway and then turn right instead of left to go over the turnstile like the other few passengers do, heading for the passage currently closed for renovations that you had noticed earlier instead and slipping into the shadow of the next corner, keeping on alert your senses, especially your hearing.

Your heart almost jumps right out of your chest when you hear the loudest echo of steps of one person get closer. There is no reason anyway should get anywhere near this area if it isn't because they probably saw you turn here.

Paranoia my ass, you think, flattening against the wall, bracing yourself, taking in a calming shaky breath as you search with sweaty shaky hands for the little bottle you always carry with you in your purse, getting a hold of it just as the sounds of heavy boots gets incredibly close.

You close your eyes. Take a deep breath and then... you jump out.

Arm outstretched and finger on the trigger.

Well... So to speak.

But it's more than enough to take your stalker by surprise.

"Whoa whoa!"

A woman - young, petite, definitely not what you expected - shouts, stumbling backward at the sight of the threateningly little red bottle in your hands, raising hers in surrender. "Easy there blondie!"

"Back off!" You bark, hand shaking with a spike of adrenaline, "Or I'm spicing things up and not in a fun way!"

"Whoa, take it easy, kid. I'm not here to rob you or anything, alright?" The young woman reassures before slowly, very slowly and without diverting her gaze from yours in an attempt to convey trust, she reaches down with one of her raised hands to tug at something right under the collar of her shirt, hooking her thumb through a chain and pulling until a badge appears.

 _What the-_

Your eyebrows shot up before knitting into a frown of utter confusion, completely taken aback.

You look at her up and down, ripped jeans, worn leather jacket, worn unlaced boots, and an untamed mane of very messy hair, and voice what is your first impression, feeling a bit skeptic, for which you are not really proud of, but can't seem to help the observation at the moment.

"You don't look like a cop."

Somehow she seems... pleased by that remark actually, and she smirks.

"Hey thanks. Also that's kind of the whole point, sweetheart."

You square your shoulders and keep the spray pointed to her just in case. "What you want from me? Why were you following me?"

"I saw you get in and out from the mansion back there." She says jabbing her thumb over her shoulder.

"So what?" You shrug because free country and all that, and you don't remember breaking any law in the last hour or so, unless... "Does your undercover job include warn every single person that enters a suspect residence? You are terrible in laying low. Not to mention in tailing someone." You add, because even you have been able to do better than that with Alex, but she doesn't seem to care much about the accusation.

"I know you aren't one involved in his... circle." She says before doing the last thing you would expect from a cop. Defend the suspect. "Not that his diamonds trading business is anything less than solid and perfectly legal."

"The hell it is!" You snarl angrily as suddenly that feeling that had subdued and been partially replaced over the latest couple of minutes by anxiety flares once more in your chest, much more fiercely than before. "He's been trading jewels and then stealing them back so he can sell them again."

She doesn't say anything for a moment, and that only makes you even more irritated, just like the scrutinizing look that she gives you before assaulting you with questions.

"Are you absolutely sure about that? Have any evidence to prove it?"

You think immediately about Alex, ready to say what you have discovered, pulling the breaks just in time before you can say something you have no idea how could turn up. Something you'll definitely regret spilling to a law enforcement agent, official report or not.

So you slump a bit on yourself, lowering the pepper spray at last and shifting hesitantly on the spot.

"No, but-"

"Then there is nothing I can do." She interrupts and at that definitive answer you find your poise back, lifting your chin defiantly and tightening your jaw.

"Then why are you investigating him anyway? If his business is so legal like you say."

"Because the others he is involved in aren't."

A piece of the conversation you had earlier comes up at that mention and your already deep frown deepens even more in thought at the possibilities.

"Look," That sigh that follows and the softening look and conciliatory tone is enough to ease your nerves. "I can't say much about it. I shouldn't be talking to you at all actually." She admits, "But... I saw you get in there and you seem like a good kid, the kind that shouldn't be anywhere near those people."

You are ready to get defensive because you hate when someone, especially a stranger, makes this kind of assumptions about you, whether it is a good one or not, but you don't get a chance to say a word.

"Trust me, you don't want anything to do with them, alright?" She drawls and there is something in the way she says it, in the way she lowers her voice and knits her brows together with a seriousness that she appears to be not too familiar in showing, that has you considering her words and leaves you with a lingering trace of doubt despite her seemingly benevolent intentions.

She doesn't wait for you to answer, or maybe, after you have shrugged off the effect of those warning words she still gets the feeling that you have no intention in backing down from whatever your business with her suspect is just because she advised it, so she just sighs and looks casually over her shoulder, glancing around the corner and making sure there is no one nearby before reaching the inside of her jacket for a pen and a piece of paper to scribble down a number.

"Just take this and call me if you get in trouble. Even if your business with him is legal." She says slipping the card in your hand. "My people and I are keeping him under surveillance anyway."

Before you can even really process what she just said or... thank her? She turns around and starts walking away.

You barely manage to snap back to yourself and call after her before she can round the corner to exit the subway.

"Wait!" You whisper/shout, "You didn't tell me your name... officer...? Detective? Agent? _...Deputy?"_ You venture, unable to hold back a little sneer at that last one.

But you aren't the only one, because when she turns around she makes a face at the title as well, and then she smirks, amused and friendly, mocking a salute.

"Just Nicole will do, kid."


	10. Chapter 10

Hi there!

You guys, I'm so embarrassed for how late I am with this update, really. But to make it up to you, both for the long wait and for the lack of Vauseman moments in the previous chapter, I made this one super long :)

Enjoy

* * *

When Alex called you distracting, teasingly accusing you of being the reason her attention has been turned somewhere else recently, you thought it was just to tease you like she seems to take so much enjoyment in doing. But you find out that it might be something more than just innocent teasing, and she definitely doesn't seem to mind putting aside some of her work in order to spend more time with you.

The idea thrills you, to say the least, much more than you will never admit, but it's just so... oddly invigorating, knowing that you are the reason, the other new shiny thing that has captured the attention of the infamous Alex Vause.

You might feel yourself glow under it. Reveling in the warmth of that knowledge.

A feeling that is only diminished when you think about your recent... private investigation, feeling the sense of subdued anger and mild guilt swirl more insistently in your stomach whenever you think about it and that gem trader and about how you still haven't said a word to Alex regarding any of this.

It becomes very clear - and pretty soon, too - that there is no way you can keep the information you found out in your private research just to yourself and not share them with her. The gem is hers, after all, she has a right to know about it. But you admit that you might have been a bit... hesitant, uncertain, in approaching the subject.

It is Alex's turn to distract you apparently just when you had decided to tell her.

She would like to take you out and you can only accept with absolute delight in spite of your intentions.

She dines and wines you as is her usual charming self, and even if you wanted to tell her about the investigation you have been doing, trying to keep at bay your nervousness - something that someone who is as observant as she is must have perceived in the tension of your posture when she first saw you, even if she didn't say anything about it - the atmosphere of your romantic dinner and just simply spending time with her, being in her company, talking and laughing and just existing together so easily and flawlessly and right, takes your mind away from all of those less pleasant and more troubling thoughts, relaxing your shoulders and subduing that feeling that has been persisting in the space between your chest and stomach during these last couple of days, spreading a much bigger, more sincere smile on your lips, that only grows in size and warmth during the evening, reaching fully your eyes.

By the end of the night all those other less pleasant sensations are nothing but a forgotten distant echo.

The restaurant where you have dinner is much closer to your apartment than to hers, and so, you invite her back to your place without the pretense of a nightcap or a cup of coffee, swaying gently under the effect of the alcohol during the walk and then up the stairs of your building - much to Alex's amusement - because the wine she has ordered was something close to divine, and you might have enjoyed a glass more than you are used to.

You miscalculate the distance of the last step to your floor and end up stumbling, gasping and preparing for the imminent fall when you fail to find a grip on something near.

But the impact on the floor never comes.

Held up by the strong arm that sneaks around your waist just in time and helps you regain your balance.

The soft deep chuckle that follows and the warmth of that secure yet gentle hold has your skin tingle all over and your stomach erupt in flutters for a reason that has nothing to do with the relief of not falling.

"Careful there, kid," Alex says when you turn in her arms, voice tinged with the now familiar soft note of amusement and that something even softer that also shows in the more gentle curl of her smirk.

That gorgeous smirk that does all sort of things to you...

"I'm sorry," The sudden apology catches you by surprise and tears you away from your thorough admiration of that delicious sly smile to meet her apologetic gaze, "I should have known you were a bit too much of a lightweight for that Cabernet. It had some punch."

Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you wriggle out of her hold in offense at that comment, because if the subtly widening smirk on her lips wasn't already more than enough evidence, you know that she isn't sorry, at all, for being somehow responsible for your current more-than-just-a-bit breezy state.

"I'm so not a lightweight!" You defend, turning around and huffing indignantly as you fish for the keys in your purse, striding down the rest of the hallway and towards your door, swaying a bit on your feet, pretending to not be incredibly annoyed by the fact that Alex has had more wine than you did and looks so perfectly, irritatingly lucid compared to you.

"I just... had a little less to eat." You mumble in a poor excuse, glancing back at her, blushing all the way up to your ears because that's quite the contrary actually, and of course Alex takes the occasion to tease you a bit more about it.

"Yeah, you are right," She says nodding with conviction, but you know better than to trust that look and simply ignore that distinctive glint in her eyes. "I should have noticed that. I guess I just got distracted by your second helping of fillet with the extra butter roasted potat- Ow!"

You swat her on the shoulder, hard, but the scowl on your blushing face eventually crumbles, breaking into a flustered look and then into a shy smile when Alex starts laughing, distractedly rubbing at the spot where you hit her.

You apologize by leaning in and planting a soft peck on her lips.

"Thank you for dinner." You tell her sincerely when you pull back.

Alex smiles, waving your words away dismissively. "No need to thank me, kid." Her hand finds its way on your ear then, softly tracing the shell before tucking the same stubborn strand of hair that has escaped your bun behind it, and the touch is so gentle and caring, so warm and tender, that you lean onto it automatically. "I'm just glad you have enjoyed it so much."

Oh, you definitely did, but...

"I have enjoyed the company much more."

This certainly seems to intrigue her, and she doesn't fight one bit the pleased mischievous grin that takes over her face.

"Did you now?" She asks curiously, tilting her head to the side in pretended ignorance, and you should have known better than give her more ammunition. Ugh.

"Because the way you were all over that entremet tells a different sto-"

This time you don't swat her. Just wrap your hand to the back of her neck and pull her into another kiss. A more long and firm one. Because you know that there is no other way to shut up her and her insufferable teasing for good.

And... Well, that may not be the only reason you pulled her into a kiss actually. Those soft fleshy lips are always so incredibly inviting and juicy. More than any dessert. Sweeter too. And way more intoxicating than any liquor you've ever tried.

And when her tongue runs gently over the seal of your lips, the feeling is so delightful that a soft moan escapes when you part them to allow entrance.

You might get carried away a little bit, lost in the warmth of that embrace. Nothing new considering the effect that Alex tends to have on you, but you can't help it. The familiarity of those swirls and the hold of considerate hands on your hips as she carefully backs you against your apartment's door... It just all still feels like the very first time.

Maybe a little less heated considering the burning passion that had flared during that first encounter at the hotel, but the way your stomach flutters is no different.

Although... the flips that your heart does in your chest might actually have increased significantly.

When you pull back your lips are tingling, and when your eyes flutter open you are met with the sight of Alex smiling at you, grinning actually, but for once, with no hint of mischief.

"Hey there..." She greets you, and you wonder how much longer you can pretend that you aren't falling for her.

"Hey yourself, gorgeous." You breathe and she chuckles at the use of that adjective, a soft smooth laugh that elicits a grin from you as your eyes dart over her beautiful face, lingering on those lips, shaped into that softer smirk, and then on those eyes crinkled with the same gleam of mirth and amusement, framed by the black-rimmed glasses that sit so elegantly on her nose and exalt the green of those mystic pools.

"You know," You half whisper half slur when you get lost swimming to find all of the flecks of gold into those stunning emerald lakes, "You can take off your glasses around me." The attempt for a wink fails miserably as your other eye closes as well in your slightly inebriated state.

Alex chuckles and steadies you when you sway once more on your vertiginous heels as you pull away from the door, leaving you wondering how much of that is for the wine and how much is for the lingering dizziness left by the kiss you have just shared.

"Oh, yeah?" She asks not even trying so hard to mask her amusement with that frown of veiled - although sincere - curiosity. "And why is that?"

You glance around the empty hallway, as if there could be someone eavesdropping out here this late, and then, when you have made sure you are alone, you lean in and whisper, quite conspiratorially, "I already know your secret identity."

"Oh, I see." Her eyes widen knowingly as she nods pensively, "But those are usually superheroes, while I'm more like... a villain, perhaps."

You snort in disagreement and make a face at that term. "You are nothing like a villain." You protest with conviction, getting ready for a real argument if she insists as you turn around once more to unlock the door, pulling her inside your apartment.

"You are incredibly talented," You continue in earnest.

"Brilliant, passionate," And even if it is dark when you first step in, you can still catch sight of her when she tilts her head down, with another smile curling her lips into a slow smirk at the mention of that latest adjective that you deliberately ignore, for how distracting it is, in order to find the switch of your desk lamp for a softer light.

"...and you are very creative."

The light flicks on, illuminating your studio apartment with a flattering, gentle, pleasantly dim orange.

"Am I?" Alex asks, and she might still be making a little bit fun of you, more specifically of your apparently incredibly entertaining and endearing inebriation as you try to keep yourself in a vertical position while taking off your heels, but even with the effect of the wine challenging your balance and clouding a bit your senses, you can see and hear in her voice the veiled search for a confirmation in that question, and the smile that shapes your lips upon hearing it is warm and soft and utterly honest.

"You are an artist, Alex ." You state when you turn around to face her, with nothing but that same absolute sincerity seasoned with all the admiration you have for her work. For her.

"And I-"

You stop then. Eyes widening and heart skipping a beat, or three, before resuming double-time, not exactly startled but definitely a bit surprised by what you are not sure you were going to say next.

Alex tilts her head and looks at you curiously with an half-confused smile.

"I... I like you." You in conclusion, swallowing hard, flashing her a shaky smile of your own, not exactly shyly but unable to shake off the self-consciousness that swells inside you at the out loud confession, barely refraining from stressing exactly how much you are starting to care about her. Something you are not sure you have fully, properly acknowledged yourself yet.

Alex on her part seems not as surprised as you are, but she still ducks her head as a grin spreads across her face, a bit flustered, but definitely pleased. "I like you too Piper."

Despite the way she fiddles a bit with her glasses, there is no trace of hesitation in the returned sentiment, and maybe it's that what makes you all the more nervous and has your heartbeat all over the place, all you know is that you are actually relieved by the distraction that she provides when she takes the first real look around your place, sincerely intrigued by the surroundings. "And I like your apartment."

"Oh please," You scoff, rolling your eyes, "Your workshop is bigger than this place."

"Maybe," She concedes with a hum, admiring the painting of the mountain landscape hanging over the couch before shifting her gaze to the large window beside it that faces the street and the few trees peeking from the park around the corner.

"But it's a nice neighborhood, and the view-"

"-is not as amazing as it is from a certain balcony surrounded by roses I've had the pleasure to... u-uh... enjoy." You conclude after a stuttered pause, and there is no way you can fight the blush painting your cheeks at that very specific memory. You can't even pretend to fully blame it on the dissipating fumes of the alcohol. But Alex seems to be taking only delight from the sight of you like this.

"Well," She drawls, all mischief and satisfaction in that smile of hers, "You are more than welcome to come and enjoy it again every time you want."

Ugh. This woman...

You swear, she must take a deeply satisfying devious pleasure in deliberately flustering you, and honestly, you don't mind it one bit, and certainly not as much as you pretend it does, especially when she accompanies her teasings with that suggestive little smirk.

The tip of your ears are burning and your mouth feels so impossibly dry all of a sudden, so you turn and walk, on your still slightly shaky legs, towards the kitchen, mentioning something about getting some water, because you could use some after all the wine - and her teasing, which you try, really hard not to think about how thirsty it makes you and in how many different ways exactly - asking if she wants something too, rounding the corner before she can answer, leaving a smiling and quietly chuckling Alex behind, engrossed in scanning the books piled ordinately on the shelves and those few others scattered on your desk.

"You have a thing for crime?" She asks as you fill two glasses with water and no, you definitely don't imagine the smile that you can hear in her voice, knowing that she has found the couple of novels about thieves that you might have recently purchased, probably noticing how they don't exactly fit in your book collection and usual genre.

You make a joke about having a personal, newly discovered interest about it and then wait, with your cheeks already warming up and your stomach already fluttering a bit in anticipation, for the expected matching teasing reply.

But...

Nothing comes.

Instead, an unexpected heavy silence falls, followed by the muted sound of shuffling papers before a muttered "Yeah, I bet you do." reaches you, so inexplicably tense and emotionless that it confuses you, drawing your eyebrows into a frown as you set the glasses down and round the counter.

"Alex?"

You knew that the silence wasn't a good sign on its own. And that tone in her voice only made it weirder.

But you actually feel your blood run cold when you get back to the open living room space and see her standing beside your desk, brow furrowed, jaw muscles twitching, and gaze narrowed as she reads what you immediately recognize as one of the few copies you have printed of her report.

Your entire body stiffens.

Oh no.

Your gaze then drops on the desk where a folder, the very same folder about everything you know about Alex and the few information you have recently discovered, stays open, forgotten there from earlier when you left your notes in order to get ready to meet her.

You have been just so captivated by Alex's company, distracted by the wonderful evening you spent together, that you completely forgot about their existence, least of all that you didn't put them away in the usual locked drawer before leaving.

You fucking idiot.

And it's not like you can even fault Alex for that. Because it's hardly snooping into someone else's stuff when that stuff is in plain view, literally scattered all over your desk.

The faltering step on the hardwood floor as you come to a stuttered halt informs Alex of your return, and really, you don't know what you would have done to not have that gaze, usually warm and tender and full of mirth, now an unfamiliar icy gray, locking with yours, freezing you on the spot.

It's incredible, really, the way you instantly sober up. Not even two minutes ago you were stumbling to get inside the apartment, and now you feel suddenly so lucid that you are overly aware of any other sound that fills the heavy, still, silence painfully stretching the moment, including the beats of your own heart, which seems about ready to leap right out of your chest with trepidation.

Without diverting her gaze from yours, Alex holds up the report.

"What is this?"

There is that edge in her tone, sharper and colder than any blade.

It cuts right through the pad of comfort and warmth that has grown in you, to reach the ridged, sour guilt you had forgotten during the evening.

"New material for an article about me?" She accuses thumbing through the pages of the thick folder sitting heavily on the desk. "You sure seem to have plenty of it."

You swallow, thickly, wet your lips, open your mouth and try to speak, say anything, but words just won't come. Remaining stuck under the tight knot that has formed between your throat and chest.

"Are you trying to find the reason that could explain why I have become a thief?" She asks waving the report with renewed accusation, "Because people stole from me first?"

There is a severity in her voice, a bitterness that you don't find reflected in the look in her eyes. As if she is trying to be more angry than she actually is without succeeding, and in the back of your mind, where hundreds of thoughts and answer aren't currently fighting for priority, you wonder why.

Her expression twitches then, just the tiniest bit, but it's enough for you to get your answer. Recognizing the hurt, the real damage you have caused, and you understand why she was trying so hard to mask it with anger.

Anger is easier.

Hurt is much more delicate and dangerous.

"Alex..." You don't dignify her accusing questions with an answer, or maybe thinking better of it, you should have, because the "I can explain" that rushes out from your lips instead before you can think, is the most predictable thing to say, which sounds so much like the cliche that it is and that makes you wince.

Alex scoffs. Humorless. An ugly, dry, chilly sound that combined with that look cracks something in you.

"Yeah. I bet you have a great one." She nods with a knowing look, "I'm just not interested in hearing your excuses."

There are no excuses, you know that, but when she turns and reaches for the door, you seem to be able to finally speak up over the knot in your throat, saying the only thing that you know will have her to listen.

"I know who stole your mom's gems!"

That works.

She freezes on the spot, hand stuttering on the doorknob before she whips her head in your direction.

 _"What?"_

You allow yourself to breathe when she lowers her hand and takes the smallest of steps away from the door.

"The gem your mother left you. I think I found it."

Bewilderment doesn't even begin to describe the look on Alex's face. And if the circumstances weren't so extremely delicate, you would probably have taken some enjoyment in seeing that expression, so foreign on her features that always show confidence and certainty, mingled with the perfect, most enjoyable amount of veiled mischief.

Your heart breaks a little at the vulnerability that reflects in her eyes, now a pale spent gray of sadness from the usual vivid and glimmering green you adore so much.

"How?" It's all she manages to ask, the first question that leaves her lips as soon as she is able to process that information.

You don't blame the reluctance and hesitancy clouding her gaze, that vulnerability and skepticism to believe you, and even if it still hurts a bit having that look directed to you, you do owe her an explanation.

"I'm not writing a story about you Alex." You start by reassuring her, closing the distance keeping you apart with careful steps, afraid that approaching her any faster would spook her, like a wild animal, and have her bolt from the room, but Alex is still too stunned to move, and when you reach her, she seems to actually welcome your presence and calm down a bit.

"I just wanted to help you," You continue, sincere and apologetic. "So I did some research of my own."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You swallow, trying to imagine how she must feel, finding something like this out in such way, after how close you have become. You try not to see that look as a regret for having trusted you, just like you try to ignore the bigger crack that spreads in your chest at the thought.

"I wanted to. I was going to." You add when she gives you this doubtful glare, but that seems to soften at the sincerity held in your unwavering gaze. "But then you distracted me with plans for dinner and everything, and-" You sigh, opening your arms, casually gesturing around your apartment. "Here we are."

She is still indecisive, understandingly so, but it seems like her curious nature has the better of her eventually.

"What have you found out?"

You reach out and take her hand, breathing out a silent sigh of relief when she allows the touch even if reluctantly, and lets you guide her on the couch to sit down.

Not knowing exactly what you should tell her first, you decided to start from the beginning.

"After you told me that you tried to search for it and found no promising lead, I thought that there would be no harm in asking for a report and try to find something you might not have had at the time, and I did find something. Apparently, there have been some recent developments in the investigation..."

You summarize the part about how you have been able to obtain the information and then actually read them, only pausing, voice trailing off, when Alex frowns at the short list of names of the suspects you remember by memory and have searched for online.

"You okay?" You ask her softly, tentatively reaching out to stroke her shoulder and watching her closely for any kind of reaction, "You know any of these people?"

She stares blankly in front of her, lost in thought until she blinks into focus, brought back by the little squeeze you give on her arm. Her haze clears and meets yours still somehow cautiously, but at least its a bit warmer.

She shakes her head, equally confused and disappointed. "No, I don't think so. It's been years, I don't remember all the names of the people my mom used to make deals with."

There are still a couple of names left on the list, and so many other things you need to tell her, especially regarding your visit to that dealer you found out has the gem, but that look on Alex's face and how conflicted she feels about all of this takes priority.

"Are you mad?" You ask her, with a mix of shyness and apprehension, like a little kid that got into trouble despite having the best intentions would do.

"Honestly?" A short huff of a laugh slips past her lips. "I don't know. Upset maybe and surprised, obviously." She adds, brows furrowing briefly with another wave of confusion before she sighs, running a hand through her long dark hair, something that you have noticed she tends to do when she's feeling frustrated or sorting through some thoughts, and you try not to get distracted by how much that gesture, one that you find so strangely elegant in its simplicity, and that even in a moment like this makes your heart speed up that tiniest bit and has your fingers twitch in your lap imagining how those silky soft strands feel like.

You can practically see, like floating clouds, all of the questions and doubts she still has, but there is something more beneath the need to just know what you discovered. And you have the nagging feeling that you might have stirred up something much more delicate by bringing all this up. Something that has less to do with the gem itself, and more to do with her mother.

That's probably what got her so upset.

Your heart clenches with a pang of sympathy and the sharper stab of guilt, because only now it occurs to you that maybe Alex has decided not to follow up on her researchers, gave up after a few tries, because it was too painful searching for something her mother left to her and that someone stole.

The long exhale and movement beside you as Alex shifts in her seat with every intention to stand, pulls you out from those thoughts just in time.

"I better get going." She mutters. "I need to-"

You interrupt her by reach out and taking her hand, giving it a tug when she stands.

Alex stops, looking back at you, and you have the confirmation about how this is just more than just that gem when green eyes, glossy and clouded and distant struggle to adjust in the dim lighting and meet yours.

"Please stay," You ask her softly, and honestly, you don't care if you look a little pleading or if your voice comes out a bit rough with the new knot tightening in your throat. "I don't want to leave things like this." And it's absolutely true, and not only because you wouldn't be able to sleep for a minute if she leaves after all this.

"Piper-"

"Please..." You ask her again. "Let me fix this."

There isn't something specific that needs to be fixed except your lack of communication on the matter, and the old wound you have inadvertently started to poke in her heart, but still, you know that if she leaves, the gap that has formed in the last five minutes between you two, would grow into a much bigger and probably irreparable rift.

Alex heaves a long silent breath, deflating a little, gaze wandering around as if in search for an answer hidden somewhere in your small apartment.

The hint of a smile tugs briefly at your lips then when that gaze drops casually on your bed.

"I know it's not your queen size mattress," You say, unable to keep a soft, much-needed note of humor from slipping in your voice, "But we can fit just fine and you can... I don't know, angry-snuggle me if you want?"

The corner of her mouth twitches a bit in the tiniest smile and some of that warm mirth you love so much returns in her eyes at that light suggestion.

"Is that even a thing?"

You shrug. "If it works." _And if it keeps you here,_ you add silently in your head.

She takes into consideration the offer, and you find yourself holding your breath when she glances towards the door, biting your bottom lip, only to release it in a smile when Alex looks back at you and after searching your face for something other than your sincere apologies and finding only your need to have a chance and make this right, she breathes a sigh through her nose, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Fine." She allows with an eye roll. "But we are going to continue this conversation in the morning. There are a lot of things I need to ask you." Just as there are many things you need to tell her, and you are more than willing to provide all of the answers that she wants on everything you know, but for now you allow some of that relief that you have kept trapped in your chest to finally wash over you like a soothing wave, trying not to give in to the grin threatening to take over.

"I have this amazing coffee blend to make you try in the morning..." You add suggestively as a further reason why she should stay the night, earning another huffed laugh from Alex.

"Talking coffee-porn isn't going to get you anywhere tonight Pipes." She warns. "But maybe I'm going to take you up on that angry-snuggle thing you mentioned."

She doesn't. The extra toothbrush you ended up getting with your new replacement turns out being useful - and the sight of it next to yours in the cup by the sink might have more effect than it probably shouldn't have - and after you have given Alex something to change into to sleep, and have slipped into bed with an extra blanket because the nights are getting a bit more chilly with the summer air fading into the more pungent autumnal one, you are the one who ends up folding your body and wrapping your arm around her from behind.

It's not how you were hoping things to go, how you had pictured the night in bed with her to be like, but its much better than what you have hoped for after Alex stumbled into that folder and the report.

"I'm sorry." You whisper one more time a bit more softly, and with the hissing silence of the night wrapped around you, the guilt held in those words seems to resonate between the walls of your small apartment. With that you press an equally apologetic kiss on the back of her neck, tentatively nuzzling the soft skin and silky hair there, releasing a breath when you actually feel Alex melt against the tender gesture with a soft sigh.

She reaches back for your hand, the one playing absently with the hem of the shirt you have loaned her, before turning on her side to face you.

"I know." She says eventually, softly, to not disturb the quietness surrounding you. "But I still wish you told me sooner about this."

For half a second you consider stirring up an argument and repeat that you were going to and that the last thing you wanted was to hurt her by poking around something close to a very delicate old wound that has never truly healed.

But you think better of it.

"You're right. I should have." It's not easy for you to admit when you are wrong, even if you had good intentions, but right now, with Alex, it feels like the right thing, and strangely enough, your ego doesn't deflate at that out loud admission.

She seems surprised too, green eyes widening before squinting quizzically, searching, as you worry your bottom lip with a question forming on the tip of your tongue thinking about her earlier accusation.

"Can I ask you something?"

The space between her brows wrinkles into a hinted frown, but she still nods. "Yeah, sure."

"How do you know I'm not, in fact, building a case against you so I can make a name for myself on some important newspaper?"

You have wondered how and why Alex trusts you. She has no reason to. And yet, it's something she seems completely unconcerned about, not that she should be anything else because just the idea that you could do something like that is so unthinkable, and actually saying it out loud sounds even more absurd that even Alex has a hard time believing it and eventually, she starts chuckling.

You narrow your eyes at her in a half-offended glare that goes largely ignored.

"A case, uh?" She asks making no effort to subdue her amusement. "And I presume you have evidence to prove so?"

You snort. "I don't need evidence. I saw you in the back alley of the Smithsonian-"

"Circumstantial." She interrupts easily, with nothing more than a dismissive shrug.

"And then I saw the necklace in your backpack at the hotel afterward." You continue but apparently, Alex has a reasonable answer for everything ready.

"It was pretty dark in that room." She reminds you, "How do you know it was that exact necklace? Especially since no break in or theft at the museum has been reported?"

Jesus...

 _Has she forgotten to mention to you a law degree or something?_

Lacking a more substantial argument you start sputtering indignantly, which of course only amuses Alex even more.

"I saw you there, and I saw the jewel!"

When she starts speaking again it is like she is mockingly cross-examining you during an imaginary trial.

"And isn't it right that you happened to have slept with the defendant in that occasion, Miss Chapman?" You try to not get distracted by how your last name rolls off her tongue, opening your mouth to answer to that allegation, but without getting the chance to protest. "So maybe your judgment and senses could have been clouded by whatever kind of _activities_ you have been involved in during said night in that hotel room?"

Ok, the way she lowers her voice into that deep sexy purr is definitely considered cheating, and definitely not admissible in a courtroom.

As it is having her roll on top of you and start planting slow kisses along your throat.

"O-objection." You half breathe half moan, swallowing down the rest of it when sharp teeth start to wickedly nibble at that extremely sensitive spot behind your ear.

"Mh, on what grounds?"

"Badgering the witness?"

"I'm merely stating the facts as they occurred." She points out all fake innocence and professionalism.

"Witness tampering?" You try again but with no success.

"Overruled." Alex denies. "You admitted being in that alley. You admitted to be in that hotel room and get there voluntarily. So far it looks more like you are a participant in the so-called crimes, if not a co-conspirator."

You have no idea how, for some miracle, you are still able to process some rational thought considering the things that her sweet breath brushing so delicately against your skin is making you feel, but you realize that she is right.

There is no physical evidence linking her to probably any one of the places where the thefts have taken place, nothing has ever been found on the so-called crime scenes, including surveillance recordings, and she has nothing in her possession since she dismantles those stolen jewels to create new ones.

At this point, if Alex ever gets caught, of one thing you are sure. And that is if she does, and ends up representing herself, she would be out with all the charges dropped so fast that it would leave the entire courtroom dizzy.

"You thought about everything, haven't you?" You ask her wrapping your arms around her shoulders, accepting defeat and also kind of turned on by how sassy she sounds when she plays lawyer.

"Not really." She admits, "I haven't exactly thought about..." Her voice trails off but she smiles down at you, with that soft gentle intensity that it makes your insides squirm with a feeling you have no words to describe, and that Alex has made you discover.

The spell breaks when she blinks and then diverts her gaze, clearing her throat before continuing with a nonchalance and lightness in her usual teasing humor that seems forced all of a sudden, as if to mask something more... vulnerable.

"I couldn't have known that I would have found you." It's all that she says in conclusion and there is something in that soft green gaze when she says that, something hiding into those clear mystic pools, floating barely beneath the surface, as if she was about to say something else but decided to steer away from it, pretty much like you did earlier, and you can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the way her heart, pressed right against yours has suddenly picked up that extra beat.

Having no idea how you should voice that frantic glorious rhythm matched in your own chest and at the same time searching for a way to ignore it, you lean in and tug Alex closer for the rest of the way, pressing your lips against hers in a kiss that was meant to be innocent, a quiet reassurance, a wordless "me too" to something you still don't know how to express with words, but that inevitably escalates into something much more heated.

One kiss becomes easily two and before you know it, Alex's tongue is already delicately tracing the seal on your lips trying to pry them open just as her leg slips between yours, rubbing right against your center. It's probably not even a completely conscious gesture, but it surely is when you grind back against it, instinctively, releasing a muffled moan and then a louder one when Alex repeats the movement with more purpose.

"I thought you were upset?" You mumble through a smile against her own smirking lips when you part for air.

"Maybe I still am. But I can be _very_ forgiving." She breathes, nosing her way along your cheek to purr in your ear, and that's too much. You cup her jaw and turn your head to capture her lips once more, drawing her into a longer, deeper kiss, swallowing the groan of approval that rumbles so sweetly in her chest and that mingles with your own when you feel her hands starting to travel down your sides to tug at the waistband of your pajamas shorts.

You kick them off from under the covers, discarding them before trapping Alex in the cradle of your hips, locking your legs around hers while her hand, purposeful yet always so gentle, makes its way between your bodies until dexterous fingers slips between your folds, parting them, easily finding your entrance, already slick and pulsing, before pushing inside, so smoothly and delightfully that you are forced to rip your lips away from her, whimpering as your body accepts her in and then prepares, getting ready to experience exactly how gloriously forgiving Alex can be while her mouth continues to leave a trail of sweet kisses and tenderly stinging bites down the column of your throat.

When she starts moving, slow and soft and considerate, so do you, canting your hips in time, meeting her thrusts, and skimming your hands down her side and back, enjoying the play of muscle under the shirt, sneaking one into her own pajamas bottoms and boyshorts when you reach the jut of her hip going lower to cup her sex, shivering at the wetness greeting you and swallowing the moan that the gesture earns you, clenching around the fingers inside you when you start stroking the little bud of nerves, already hard and peeking from beneath its thin protective hood, because for how much you welcome the physicality of all of this, sharing this with Alex feels intimate in a way words won't ever be enough to express, like a silent reminder that after tonight's discoveries and solved argument, you both are in this. Together. And the way your heart doesn't stop from doing flips and acrobatics in your chest is the ultimate confirmation.

The knowledge is as exhilarating as it is terrifying for some reason but you refuse to be taken hostage by those feelings, deciding to do something about it and embracing their glory, reversing your position, much to Alex's surprise - and a bit of your inevitable disappointment too, when she slips out of you - who puffs out a breath when you roll over and press her flush against the mattress.

"Maybe I should first show you how sorry I am before you can completely forgive me." You offer in explanation when Alex arches an equally amused and puzzled eyebrow at this new, sudden... arrangement.

For a moment you are worried that she might flip you over once more, as is in her nature, but considering the grin that spreads across her lips, she doesn't seem to mind the suggestion, on the contrary, for once, she allows it, first with a reassuring "you don't have to," followed by a much more playful "but if you really insist, kid."

It is more of a need than insistence.

And you have the feeling that Alex knows that, too. Which is probably why she hasn't struggled to regain her usually dominant position, and you couldn't be more delighted by the opportunity, smiling down at her before leaning in to kiss her, and keep kissing her lower, an inch at the time, no longer to show her how sorry you are, but with something very close to devotion as your lips skim reverently over her flawless skin and her fingers lace through your hair, both to hold you close and keep herself anchored as deliciously deep groans slip past her lips with every soft lap of your tongue, every gentle suck of your lips, and every sweet wave of pleasure.

* * *

 **I can hear the grunts of protest for not continuing this into something more... explicit, lol. But you guys have to understand that this isn't that kind of story :P Although, doesn't matter which kind of story, I always love to tease with a few hints of passion between these two, because we all know that Vauseman is so very passionate ;) Also... Makeup sex is the best :P**


	11. Chapter 11

Hey there!

I'm back with the new chapter ready for you guys :) There is some heavy fluffy stuff here, but I know that you guys don't mind :P

Enjoy

* * *

It is the delicate scent of orange blossoms and ginger lingering on the pillow, with that undertone of something wild and fresh, equally tart and sweet, like elderberries and grapes, that mingled with the more recognizable, slightly bitter smell of freshly ground coffee in the background coaxes you from your peaceful slumber in the sweetest way.

It creates a new fragrance that feels already familiar in its uniqueness, tugging your lips into a sleepy smile that widens further when your eyes flutter open and, after adjusting to the enthusiastic bright sun rays peeking into the room, they land on the tall, lean figure rummaging quietly in the kitchen.

Your heart flutters, and your smile blossoms onto a full dimpled grin.

The muscles on your back protest a little when you slip out of bed without stretching, but the sight of Alex, glasses sitting on top of her head, lips pursed, eyes squinting, brow lightly furrowed, as she sorts through your cabinets in search for something to get as breakfast along with the brewing coffee, is more than worth the crick that takes a few steps for you to loosen as you pad over to her from behind, wrapping your arms around her middle and burying your nose in her nape, inhaling the luscious smell of her skin and hair mixed with the faint one of the laundry detergent clinging on the shirt you have given her.

"Do you have _anything_ that isn't whole wheat in here, sleepyhead?"

It's the greeting that she gives you in lieu of a good morning, pretending to sound exhasperated by the dicovery of the ridiculously extra healty contents of your pantry, but you can actually hear the warm note of contentement in her deep, slightly rough morning voice and feel her melt a little in your embrace as one of her hands rests atop yours against her stomach, affectionately stroking your knuckles.

"Don't you know that whole grain is good for you, _early chicken?"_ You tease her, grinning against her shoulder when she throws her head back with a laugh.

"It's like eight am, kid."

You shrug against her.

"Then I guess someone wore me out last night and I needed the few extra minutes of sleep."

She hums, pleased and amused, turning in your arms to face you, eyes still a bit heavy with sleep, but bright in the morning light, made even brighter by the trademark smirk shaping her lips.

 _"You_ needed sleep, _I_ needed calories, wearing you out is a nice workout, Pipes. But very exhausting nonetheless."

Her teasing is filled with affection, but you still roll your eyes in an attempt to ignore the unavoiable sparkle of embarrasment that gets ignited with that statement, although sweet and pleasant and welcoming, that flares inside you in hearing it, and trying to mask the flustered look on your face with one of pretended exasperation, before you wrap your hand on the back of her neck, pulling her closer and leaning in at the same time to press your lips against hers, muffling her delicious, deep, raspy chuckle in a smiling kiss.

Your spine tingles and your entire body buzzes with the fresh memories of last night's activities, shivering all over when Alex's hands come to rest on your hips, long warm fingers brushing delicately on that inch of skin left exposed by your shirt.

Somehow, you manage to keep the kiss relatively innocent, even though Alex's impossibly soft lips and the warmth of her body pressed so close against yours make it a very difficult challenge, especially when she nibbles at your bottom lip and you have to suppress the whimper of weakness that the gesture earns in the back of your throat, pulling back with extreme reluctance but still leaning onto her because your kness, unsurprisingly, feel already a bit wobbly.

"What do you say if I go freshen up a bit with a quick shower and then prepare some pancakes?"

She visibly lights up at the offer. But, of course, despite what she said about being hungry, you should have known that the spark of interest that flashes in her eyes is _not_ about the prospect of breakfast...

"You want some company?" She asks glancing between you and the bathroom door, with that unmistakable look that just confirms your suspicions.

You trap the inner corner of your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent letting out any embarrassing whimper at the compelling image that pops in your head, and preventing your smile to grown into something more seductive and intrigued upon hearing such suggestion.

"We both know that if we go in there together we won't come out until the water runs cold."

It's what you say after a few seconds when you find your voice, but even to your own ears that doesn't sound one bit convincing, and Alex sees right through that ridiculously weak excuse of an argument, quirking a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you, green eyes smiling and sparkling with mischief. "I didn't hear a no."

You don't think you could _ever_ say no when it comes to being naked with Alex in a very close proximity, and the thought of drops of water caressing the curves of her body and the fog of steam lifting and wrapping around you both is more than enough to make you squirm on the spot.

Alex can see the exact moment you cave in - not that you were left with any other choice after those images - even though it's just an instant before you grab her hand and pull her towards the bathroom, leaving the freshly brewed coffee and general plans for breakfast behind, both suddenly craving something other than food and caffeine.

Things don't get too steamy though, except for the water pressure, but there is another kind of intimacy in getting clean together. Touches that even if not explicitly sexual, despite the places where they linger, it is still extremely sensual. Especially when Alex runs her hands through your wet hair, rinsing the shampoo by massaging your scalp with her fingertips under the shower spray, careful to not let any get in your eyes, and stroking what might as well be a newly discovered erogenous zone that has you humming in delight.

The water running cold turns out to be exactly the only reason you get out of the shower, shivering in between giggles, but getting dressed and then preparing breakfast side by side, sipping spiced coffee, stealing glances, playfully poking at each other like teenagers with a huge crush do, before you sit down to eat. It feels so easy and right sharing a part of your routine with Alex, comforting and soothing, something that values, even more, the certainty that even if you still have to talk about things, still have to properly regain balance after last night's slip, this is real, and maybe... who knows, it could turn out being even... _more real._

"You know," Alex says as she finishes chewing the last bite of her whole wheat strawberry pancakes, washing everything down with the last few sips of coffee before wiping her mouth. "I thought it would taste like hay, but I have to admit, they were actually great."

You smirk at the compliment and the pleased surprise in her voice - she has actually been purring softly in the back of her throat through her whole meal, like an affectionate, domesticated tiger getting fed - before you lean in to wipe off the drop of syrup shining on the corner of her bottom lip that has escaped the thorough napking cleaning of her mouth with the pad of your thumb. "You eat hay often?"

Alex watches as you suck at the sticky drop on your finger, narrowing her eyes, playfully, before declaring defeat with a chuckled, "Touché."

She thanks you for breakfast with a kiss that tastes sweet and fruity, helping you do the dishes and clean up the kitchen counter before you bring over the thick folder.

"Down to business?" You ask with a little sigh, not quite ready to interrupt this morning blissfulness, a reluctance that you can also notice in Alex, who still looks a bit uncertain about the idea of tackling the subject.

It makes you hesitate, reaching out to stroke her arm, hoping to convey some reassurance and understanding when you softly ask her if she is still up to this.

She swallows, hard, eyes going glossy and distant for a moment before she blinks and then nods.

"Yeah, sure. I'm okay," She reassures shrugging nonchalantly, but there is still that layer of uncertainty that doesn't convince you, unless until Alex sighs and explains, "Last night you blindsided me with those information. I haven't thought about all that stuff for a while and I wasn't... _expecting_ all the emotions that came to the surface."

She shifts on the spot, clearly uncomfortable in admitting such thing out loud, and it just makes you feel more guilty for not considering Alex's feelings, for not considering that she could have been hurt all over again, for rummaging carelessly in a very painful memory, in a very painful period of her past, and thinking that your crossing such boundry wouldn't have had consequnces.

But then she gives you this small smile, a bit tremulous and awkward, sad but sincere, it reaches her eyes and makes them glint with something that looks like melancholy gratefulness and the same determination that has her square her shoulders and regain her usual confident demeanor, and by that point, her smile has turned into something lighter and more playful.

"Tell me what else you found out, oh Miss Josephine Baker." She encourages, gesturing to the folder, only partially teasing, once more stressing how impressed she is for the little stunt you came up with to uncover the information that had been canceled on the report. You grin at her but still protest, not fiding your actions worthy of being compared to the famous French resistance spy and civil right activist. It seems too much of a flattering compliment for how little you did to try to help Alex so far.

"It's nothing remotely as impressive as her work." You shrug, though unable to do anything about your flustered smile. "And I can't dance for shit."

Alex laughs at that. A real full laugh filled with all her humor, warm and deep and familiar. It sparks a little fire inside your chest that burns the doubts away and soothes you right to the core, doesn't matter if you just admitted that embarassing detail about yourself, something that is the exact opposite respect Miss Baker, who was an exceptional exotic dancer beside being a... creative information smuggler.

"Really?" Alex asks as if having difficulties imagining that about you.

You just nod, rubbing the back of your neck and ducking your head to hide the blush taking over your face.

"Well then, what if I said Anna Chapman?" She asks with a little smirk, mentioning the famous Russian's flamed-haired beauty arrested for espionage. "Maybe there is some blood relations behind the name."

The suggestion actually makes you chuckle, because you were kind of expecting her to come up with that one.

"I doubt it." You reply, shaking your head. "She took her husband's name." You inform her, although, considering Alex and her impressive knowledge about even the less researched subjects, you know she must already be aware of that. Just like she must be aware that said husband, Mister Chapman's name, is actually, ironically enough, _Alex._

A silent confirmation that you can see when she just smiles at you, with soft amusement and... _something else..._ sparkling oh so subtly and gently in those emerald lakes that seem to ripple, bringing up shades of blue and the fragments of gold hidden in those depths against the sunlight filling your apartment.

You clear your throat and open the folder, deliberately taking more time than necessary and avoiding Alex's gaze and the smirk you are sure is _definitely_ slowly tugging at her lips in seeing you so flustered, pulling out the papers and your personal notes about all you have found out about the gem - and who has it - so far.

With your composure back on, you resume from where you left off last night, informing Alex of everything, starting from the police report.

You hesitate a bit when you come to the part where you went to the mansion of that dealer; one of the main suspects in the presunted theft, and with motive, because you can see the shift in Alex's expression, the more severe, brooding look that takes over her features, creasing her brow as you tell her about how the meeting went, but she still waits until you finish before saying anything.

"...so I'm not _one hundred percent_ sure if it was the same gemstone, but the picture he showed me was the same one you did, although in a higher resolution."

You expect Alex to ask you more about it, details you might have noticed and what else, a more thorough description even, instead she stays silent for a few moments after you conclude. And you wait patiently, giving her the time to absorb everything you told her about how your encounter with Mr. Balik went, feeling a bit of apprehension swelling in you when the silence stretches almost into a full minute. A silence that breaks when Alex sighs. A soft silent exhale that leaves her nose as she runs a hand through her hair before meeting your gaze, so intensely that you barely resist the urge to squirm under it.

"You shouldn't have gone there, Piper." It's all that she says at last and... you are taken aback by that for sure.

You just told her, _again,_ although more exhaustively than last night, that you most likely found the half emerald half aquamarine that belonged to her mother, and yet her concern is about how you have obtained that conclusive information.

The frown that creases the space between your eyebrows is one of both confusion and surprise at hearing that odd statement.

You can make your own choices, and you know that Alex is fully on that with you, unquestionably, but you still can't quite shake off the feeling that has been clinging onto you since last night and the argument you had about all this, brought up again so persistently that you just decide to ask.

"If I would have told you sooner that I had found these informations or even that I _intended to,_ would you have wanted me to keep searching?"

Alex diverts her gaze, pensively, fixing it on something distant outside the large window in the living room space, pondering that question over, conflict evident between what you know are her values and... something undecifrable that you notice when her eyes return on you with an answer.

"I don't know. I would never force someone to do or not do anything. But I would have definitely warned you about those people before you decided to go there. I just..." She pauses, and then you _know_ why she was so conflicted by this question.

The vulnerability in the way she looks at you matches the veiled worry that leaves her lips a second later.

"I don't want anything to happen to you, Piper."

Your heart feels suddenly heavy, swollen, and clenching with a sense of affection that wrestles with the defensive _I-can-take-care-of-myself_ thought that gets inevitably triggered.

You know that Alex doesn't think of you as some vulnerable damsel who needs protection, and for how difficult it is to ignore, you still try to not let those contrasting feelings interfere and decide to keep your next question rational even if curious.

"What exactly are these people involved with that you get so concerned about?"

She exhales through her nose, a sigh that is in between frustration and embarrassment.

"It's not _concern._ It's just that there were rumors about a few- that smuggled something else besides gold and valuable gems, usually I don't believe in rumors, I mean... they _still_ believe that the Red Rose Thief is an asian male with some crazy electronic knowledge and acrobatic abilities."

You can't help but chuckle at that one, because it's one of those many absurd rumors that swirl around about Alex that you have never believed. Although, now that you think about it... Alex has a lean athletic structure and...she is... uh... quite _flexible._

When Alex smiles mischievously at you, you know it is because she has read right through the soft blush that has suddenly flared on your cheeks at some related thoughts regarding those mentioned _"acrobatic abilities."_

The wink that she throws then brings your blush to a whole new level, scalding your face and reaching the tip of your ears when you picture something where said flexibility can - and has been - shown in all its most... enjoyable way.

A specific position crosses your mind. Where you have experienced the glorious, slippery and impossibly intimate feeling of her sex rubbing right against yours and bringing you to an incredibly sweet release.

For once, Alex has pity on you, something you are extremely thankful for, because if she would make a comment of some kind or subtly tease you about how easily flustered you are getting this morning, you are pretty sure that you would go up in flames althogether.

Instead, she just gets back to the main discussion, which is all you need to clear your head from those compelling memories and cool down.

"Anyway, even if it wasn't for those rumors, I would have still warned you. Those guys always looked suspicious to me. There was only one who was actually nice and didn't give me that weird feeling. A subordinate of sorts that worked for the big shot."

You nod, lips pursed in thought as you wonder if it might have been one of those guys you have seen milling around the mansion that day.

When Alex doesn't add anything else, a bit lost in her own thoughts, you start to think about the options you get, how you move from here considering the things you have discovered so far, but realizing that now it's no longer up to you.

It's not _your_ call.

You might have put some pieces together, but the ultimate decision is one that only Alex can make. And you are going to respect whichever she comes up with.

You reach out, across the counter to take her hand. She blinks at the touch, green eyes regaining focus and adjusting to the present as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

"What do you wanna do, Alex?"

She exhales, long and slow and silent, looking at you with those smart, knowing eyes, and with a little smile curling her lips.

"You are talking about the invite to the auction, aren't you?"

You give her what you hope is a noncommittal shrug and reply. "We could always go if you want."

She doesn't answer to that, instead asking you if, "You know if he had the gem there with him?"

She sounds almost hopeful, but there is the twitch of something in her jaw, is not quite anger, more close to annoyance maybe, bitter and uncomfortable that gnaws understandably at her at the thought of someone else having something that belongs to her, something that was left to _her._

You shake your head.

"He didn't. But he said that he would have brought it for me and that I could make him an offer if I actually decided to buy it."

Alex hums, thoughtfully and interested, but still not looking completely convinced about going to the event as a guest. And while you know that this is a decision that she has to make on her own, you don't think that testing your persuasion skills by giving her a little incentive that could work as a gentle push but nothing more would be so bad after all.

 _Would it?_

And what better way to try and be persuasive than dangle all the precious and unique things you have seen in that mansion right in front of the most famous thief of the world, who is known for her incredibly refined taste.

"You know," You start, voice turning low and cheatingly seductive, "He said that the auction he was holding was to get rid of a few art pieces and other precious items he has collected over the years. So maybe there is _something else_ there that you might consider worth _checking out."_

It feels so much like teasing a kitten with the string of a ball of yarn, which amuses you and makes you feel a bit guilty all at once.

A very irresistible string it seems, because apparently, the suggestion seems to appeal Alex. Very much in fact. Her ears visibly perk up and you have to fight your smirk from widening into a full grin of satisfaction, especially when, after another moment of thoughtful silence she asks you, "Did you... see something interesting there?"

You think immediately about the marvelous marble statues and gorgeous landscapes paintings and other ancient tasteful items framed or held into the designed displays that you have noticed in the foyer and around the office among ancient furniture, oriental tapestry, Persian carpets.

Something that could _definitely_ catch her interest comes to mind, turning your grin into a wickedly excited one.

"It may not be shiny," You say, "But I might have spotted a complete copy of Miguel de Cervantes's Don Quixote, in the library of his office."

Mentioning the extraordinarily rare book has the most wanted jewel thief of the world utterly speechless.

Alex's eyes go wide with disbelief, lips parting, moving as if she wants to say something but simply unable to find the words or even her voice.

It's such an extremely entertaining sight to witness that you can't help but grin in front of it, deciding to snap a mental picture of that priceless look before continuing with pretended innocence.

"Of course I could have seen wrong, I mean, _you are_ more of an expert than I am after all when it comes to this kind of things."

Alex, who somehow has managed to get out of her stupor, snorts, a little bark of an incredulous laugh.

"Damn Piper... You know how to play dirty, kid." She accuses, shaking her head, but there is that smirk tugging at her lips.

Somehow you take her words as a compliment, and the grin on your face spreads even further, showing your dimples and reaching your eyes, making them glint as your chest swells with something akin to pride.

"Should I take that as a yes for the invitation then?" You venture, barely resisting the urge to squeal, actually _squeal_ with excitement when after another minute of contemplation she sighs and nods, shoulders slumping in defeat, but there is still that smile on her face, sincere, and most importantly it doesn't show reluctance, which is extremely relieving considering that - as Alex said - you might have played much dirtier than you didn't want to in your initally innocent attempt to convince her.

"It feels weird though," She says, brow furrowed and half a sneer lifting her upper lip. You look at her with a mix of amusement and confusion until she clarifies. "Getting inside someplace filled with all those pieces of art and rare book collections without knowing the floors map."

Oh. _Right..._

There is _that._

You tilt your head down and chuckle. Because _of course_ Alex would feel awkward in such circumstances, like walking around blindfolded. Especially if she ends up tempted to get a... uh... souvenir of the evening. Usually, she would never steal from a person, you know that, but you also think that getting a memento from the person who has possibly stolen from her could be considered a justifiable exception.

Luckily, you have a solution ready to soothe her concerns.

"Well, if it can help you be a little less nervous, I may have taken a more thorough look around the place before I left." You tell her, enjoying the look of surprise that shapes Alex's features. "Noticed a few cameras and what seemed like a fuse box nearby the office."

"Oh, did you now?" This time it is Alex's voice that turns almost seductive in hearing that juicy information.

You nod, feeling so oddly flustered at the admission, but in a very good way, especially considering how pleased Alex looks.

She calls you brilliant, flashes you that charming, knee-buckling, heart-fluttering smile of hers and then leans in, kissing you so softly on the lips that whatever part of you was still intact after seeing that smile, simply melts away.

When she pulls back there is a little less excitement and a lot more tentativeness in her eyes though.

Something that resembles uncertainty and an unexpected sudden shade of vulnerability.

It startles you a bit and clenches your stomach with a pang of concern.

"What is it?" You ask her, worried.

Alex shakes her head, offers you another smile, but it's strained and just barely twitching. "Nothing, I just..."

You wait, unconsciously holding your breath until she finally speaks.

"I was wondering why did you ask for the report. Why did you search for that gem in the first place?"

It takes you by surprise hearing that again question, and you are about to tell her the same thing you told her last night, repeat her that you just wanted to help, but... you can see in her eyes, more than hear in those questions, the one hidden within those two, the most obvious one that it actually surprises you haven't caught before. The unspoken, and understandable, _"Why are you really helping me?"_

There is no accusation or doubt or suspicious in her gaze, and even if there were, meaning that she might not trust you, it would hurt yes, but you couldn't fault her for that for not even a second.

Your core of a journalist, or aspirant journalist, or whatever, has flared a bit at the possibility of finding out something like that, pretty much like it did when you first started to suspect of Alex being the infamous Red Rose Thief.

But there was something _more_ pushing you into action than the simple motivation of the satisfaction that finding that gem for her would have brought you...

You look at Alex, green eyes carefully studing you with a gentle scrutiny, not invasive, just taking a glimpse beneath the surface, trying to put together the pieces of the real reason that she can see scattered in your blue pools, while patiently waiting for you to answer.

You swallow, thickly because a lump always tightens your throat when you think about one of the main reasons that have motivated you, whenever you think about your grandmother, about the ring she left you, the one she wanted you to have and no one else.

And then you think back about the look on Alex's face that night she told you of that tiny gem and talked about her mother with heartbreak and fondness carved in her features...

"Remember the ring I showed you?" You ask her at last, although it's completely unnecessary knowing that she _certainly_ hasn't forgotten something that she's made and that has allowed you _to find her._ Still, you wait until she nods before continuing.

"At first I didn't even know that my grandmother left it to me. I didn't even _remember it_ to be honest." You admit and it's true, all you knew at the time was that one of the most important persons in your life was gone. "But... If I knew that someone stole it, if I knew someone stole the last thing she left me I would want to at least try and search for it, find a way to get it back. Not because of the value or because it reminded me of her because nothing will ever make me forget of her. But because she wanted me to have the symbol of something that has made her... _happy."_

You don't say the word.

You don't say that she probably left it to you because she wanted you to have the same luck she did romantically. Being that explicit would be too much. But Alex is already looking at you with that expression that is soft understanding, like she knows, like she already understands what you said, or better, _didn't say._

So you just swallow, blinking away the tears threatening to fill your eyes and then continue.

"Your mother kept aside that gemstone and wanted you to have it because she had probably already seen your interest in jewels, and knew that if your talent would have blossomed during the years, you would have done something amazing with it."

Alex stays silent after you finish, looking a bit stunned actually as if she has never considered that one as a possibility.

You give her a small, tender - although nervous - smile, folding your hands in your lap, picking at the loose threat of your shirt to resist the temptation to reach out and grasp her hand.

Because even if what you just told her is the truth, at the same time it's not the _whole_ truth that answers why you are really helping her.

It's something that has more to do with words that have been swelling in your chest and crawling their way up to tease the tip of your tongue for some time now just at the thought of Alex.

Nonetheless, you have been sincere.

 _Mostly._

But when her gaze clears and she sees that sincerity in your eyes as much as she heard it in your voice and _believes_ you, and _smiles_ at you, with soft earnest green eyes that have gotten glossy and nostalgic at the mention of her mom... even if you are just guarding youself, the way your heart clenches with the emotion you keep imprisoned there in front of that look, still makes you feel a bit like a liar.

* * *

 **I know you guys have been missing some smut lately, and I'm truly flattered that you enjoy so much what I come up with when I play with these two in that way, lol, so if you have some requests, please send me a PM, I can't promise anything, but I always take in consideration your ideas, especially if they meet my own headcanons about Vauseman :) Early Vauseman though, since, as you know, I'm far behind with the episodes of the show. Anyway, about this feelings-leaking chapter, it was kind of wrapped in a domestic bliss but after that non-fight, I thought it would have been nice give them this moment of quietness and stability, exception made of course for Piper struggling with her blossoming feelings for Alex :)**


	12. Chapter 12

Hey there!

I'm back with the new chapter ready for you guys :) There aren't many chapters left actually, just three, maybe four more... But for now, I'll leave you to this one.

It's the pre-auction preparations, and there is a scene that... Nope.

Not going to spoil it to you :P Just...

Enjoy

* * *

You don't know what you expect when Alex opens the door of her apartment to let you in.

You've always had a good imagination, and might have maybe let it run wild and pictured what she could have decided to wear for the night; in order to picture your own choice of clothes, _of course._

Alex is always elegant, simple, but incredibly refined in her choices.

Dresses compliment her figure in the most flattering way, and with that assumption, you have started to think about what would Alex have considered as an appropriate evening dress to wear for the invitation to a private auction.

Your ideas collapse on themselves, however, in the moment the door of Alex's cozy penthouse is pulled open and you are greeted by the sight of the raven-haired, green-eyed woman who has taken permanent residence in your thoughts and in each beat of your heart, wearing an honest to god tuxedo, making you realize that you haven't taken in consideration a very important characteristic of Alex; how much she likes taking you by surprise. Something that she definitely manages to do, and a reaction that, of course, she takes deep satisfaction and enjoyment seeing on your face.

It makes you wonder if this is a choice she came up with on purpose just because she knew you wouldn't have expected it.

Knowing her, you can't exclude it. And honestly? You surely wouldn't mind it one bit if that's the actual case.

"Hey, kid." She grins, slowly, smugly pleased, and oh so damn unfairly seductive.

You will your legs to move and step inside, remembering at the last second to pick up your jaw that has fallen on the threshold, and barely managing to blink to regain some resemblance of composure as you eye her up and down, breathing out a soft "wow" at the sight of her in that impeccably tailored, expensive suit.

Despite the genre of clothing, the thing that strikes you most at the very first glance is that she looks extremely feminine in it. The cut of the blazer follows the curves of her waist so neatly and exquisitely, exalting them and her uh... other most prominent _assets,_ in a way that has your mouth water and your knees buckle a little, same goes for the dark gray vest she decided to put underneath, over a white, simple yet elegant, botton up, the black skinny slacks that hugs her long legs just as deliciously, and the tasteful ankle boots that give her those few extra inches of advantage over you, so that when, in absence of proper words at the sight of her, you thread your finger throught her belt buckle and pull her flush to you with a smirk on your face - much to Alex's amusement - you have to crane your neck a little to press your lips against hers, swallowing the very much expected, deep, husky chuckle that rumbles in Alex's chest at your enthusiastic show of appreciation.

You kiss her until that sound turns into a much lower humming noise.

"You look so yummy." You tell her, when you part, practically purring the words against those red, cherry flavored lips of hers before licking your own, letting that sweet, juicy flavor spread on your tongue like you would with an expensive wine.

Alex watches you with smiling, sparkling green eyes and that sexy, mischievous, irresistible, trademark little smirk.

"Why thank you," She says, leaning back a little to give you a slow once over that makes you tingle all over. "You don't look so bad yourself, kid."

You know that she means it, and the way she pulls back a little more only so she can scan your figure entirely, slowly - green eyes taking in every inch of you, trailing up from your high ankle strap heels and exposed legs, which she seems to appreciate immensely, all the way up to your collarbone, caressing the side of your neck and then finally reaching your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes - only conveys that compliment even more sincerely.

You have to bite your bottom lip in a pitiful attempt to contain the sudden need to squirm under that gaze.

"Stop doing that." You ask her eventually, when your self-consciousness has the better of you, although, under that layer, there is another, much thicker one, that absolutely _revels_ under Alex's attention.

"Doing what?" She asks, and someone else might be fooled by that innocent, sincerely puzzled wide eyes look, but you know better.

There is _no_ mistaking that playful glint in her eyes.

"Looking at me like you are picturing what kind of lingerie I'm wearing under this." You accuse her gesturing at your blue sleeveless dress, pretending that you aren't actually shifting closer to her because of that irresistible magnetic gaze.

Alex laughs and it is deep and warm, and a sound that fills your chest with emotion and that makes the butterflies in your belly flutter even more insistently.

"I can't help it," She admits. "And I'm picturing something like black lace, and... underwire bra, probably."

This time you don't give her the satisfaction of looking self-conscious by her thorough scrutiny, or even surprised by her indeed correct assumption about your underwear choice, you just step closer and loop your arms around her neck, smirking mischievously at her.

"I guess you'll have to wait until later to find out."

And then, much to your satisfaction, Alex _groans._ "Don't be a tease, kid."

The words come out low and with that edge of danger that you have noticed tends to seep into her voice when she is turned on, a knowledge and a tone that sends a delicious shiver down your spine, making your smirk widen into a full, awfully pleased grin.

"Don't like it when someone else does it now, do you?"

Alex shakes her head. "It's a shame we have to go out. I want you _all_ to myself."

Another shiver of delight crawls its way up your spine at the soft note of sweet possessiveness that slips in that exquisitely deep voice. It makes your body hum and your blood sing in your veins when Alex wraps her arms that bit more tightly around you and leans in, starting to trail kisses and teasing bites along your neck.

"A-Alex?" You half breathe half moan, cursing internally that you haven't considered the other weapons at her disposal when you have stepped into her arms. "We should get going if we want to be there in time."

Alex merely hums at the reminder, and you can feel her lips curl into a smile against that weak spot near the hollow of your throat.

"Never heard of arriving fashionably late, kid?"

At that, you can't help but scoff.

"Knowing you, fashionably late would turn into an embarrassing two hours of delay."

 _Two glorious hours of delay,_ but you don't dare to tell her that and risk encouraging her behavior.

But of course, Alex just justifies that with a mumbled "semantics" and your resolve is ready to crumble for good when she scrapes the side of your neck with a teasing nibble that makes your knees unbelievably weak, barely managing to not let out a whimper by biting down on your bottom lip.

With another kiss on the corner of your jaw, however, Alex surprises you by pulling back altogether.

"All right, fair enough kid," She sighs, and despite everything you just said, and the point you made about arriving late if you continued, you are suddenly so very incredibly disappointed knowing that it was your words that made her stop.

And, much to Alex's amusement, you groan in protest.

"You doing this on purpose." You accuse her, lips pursed and eyes narrowed in a glare, but Alex shakes her head at the accusation.

"It's just... You look beautiful Piper."

You can feel your face immediately heating up with a charming blush under the smile that slowly starts to blossom there, making your cheeks dimple.

"Thanks." You return the compliment once more as well, unable to keep your eyes from roaming her figure all over again, taking her in her exquisite appearance one more time, for the first time fully taking notice of her hair, styled in soft waves that fall neatly over her shoulders, and of her Egyptian-like eyeliner make-up that stretches a bit over the tails of those stunning emerald eyes.

"I have something for you."

It is the sound of that smooth, deep voice that pulls you out from your appreciating scrutiny, but it is only when you see Alex turning around and walking towards the middle of the living room, reaching for something on the coffee table in front of the couch that the words register.

"What?"

You approach her with a frown, stepping into the vast, open room and under the light of the moon filtering through the large balcony doors, and it is then that you see it.

"Alex..." You scold her with a sigh, "You didn't need-"

"It's nothing much," She interrupts reassuringly before stretching her hand out to offer the tiny elegant gift box. "Just... a little something."

The sight of blue velvet, and the smooth feeling of it under your fingertips is something that you have started to associate entirely with Alex; a comparison that matches with some of the traits that you have found in the raven-haired woman.

After a moment of hesitation, you accept the gift, and the little sign of nervousness in Alex's expression as you do so isn't certainly lost on you.

Unsurprisingly, it turns out that you and Alex have a very different perspective about what _"nothing much"_ means, but still, in the moment the little box creaks open, you can't help but gasp in wonder.

"Oh, Alex..."

Two dark pearls drop earrings stare up at you from the soft cushion where they are gently sitting on, sparkling in all their splendor.

You glance up at Alex again, who simply smirks, although much more dimly, shyly almost, even if the thought of Alex acting shy or tentative is so ridiculous that it would be enough to make you laugh if only your expression wasn't stuck in one of both astonishment and surprise; a look that she seems to enjoy quite a bit under that layer of not-quite shyness.

"They are..." You stutter, shaking your head, struggling for words that won't come to you, because nothing that you could say would properly describe and give justice to the beauty of the carefully, expertly crafted earrings, to the subtle white gold floral design of the drop attached to the uniqueness of those dark pearls.

"You made these?"

The question slips out on its own, a wandering thought you already know the answer of, because you might not consider yourself so much of an expert that you can recognize Alex's style in her jewelry upon a first glance, but you can surely recognize her refined taste, her choice of white gold, the floral design used, and the choice of the dark blue pearls, almost black, with gray metallic reflection; all details that reminds you of Alex's work, and of her preferences for the rarest things.

"Well, not the pearls." She jokes, flashing you one of her teasing smirks when you just roll your eyes at her in pretended exasperation. "I haven't gone fishing for those. But yeah, I've had them for a while. I just needed... _the inspiration..._ to do something with them."

You think that even if she wouldn't have looked so pointedly at you, you would have still blushed, and your heart would have still fluttered just as strongly at the obvious implication.

"You shouldn't have Alex." You tell her, after glancing down once more at those stunning little pieces of art, not feeling worthy of such a gesture. "I... I can't accept these. They are too much, I-"

"Please, Piper." Alex interrupts you, softly, with that same tenderness in her voice and in those smiling green eyes that makes your breath catch in your throat and has your heartbeat all over the place when she says, "I made them for you."

No one has ever gifted you jewelry before. No one has ever made _anything_ for you before at all, and it is with a shaky voice and glistening eyes that you ask her if you can try them on.

"Of course," Alex smiles, leading you to the tall mirror hanging on the wall beside the balcony door, standing beside you as, with the same shakiness in your hand, you pick up the first earrings, then the second, and once in place, not only they have slid in smoothly, but they look and feel like they belong there.

"You wear them beautifully." Alex compliments, and while you accept the flattering comment, she must see the lingering traces of hesitation under the soft blush that spreads on your cheeks, because she takes a step back and with the same foreign uncertainty that you have seen in her and that has made your heart ache earlier she says, "You don't have to keep them if you are uncomfortable, Piper. But... I just wanted you to have them," She smiles. "As a thank you for all you have done to find out about my mom's gem. Even if the dealing won't go well tonight."

Those words are more than enough to shock you back from whatever trance of self- consciousness had taken you hostage.

"What? _No,_ I didn't... I didn't do it to get anything back from you, Al." You tell her solemnly, turning to face her completely, even though you know that Alex knows that already too, the look she gives you confirms it, but you still want to specify that, "I did it because-"

And there is again.

 _That reason._

Stuck in your throat.

Pounding against your ribcage with the itching need to come out.

There is no way of swallowing it back down, nor is something you want to do anymore. Even if... Even if it'll turn out that Alex doesn't feel the same way.

Your palms feel sweaty but your heart is swollen with the emotion, and-

"I love you."

 _There._

Only...

It takes you a moment to realize that the words didn't come _from you._

Your head snaps up to look at Alex as soon as you realize it. Eyes wide, breath caught in your lungs, and you are pretty sure that your heart stops beating as well for a few moments when you see the soft, bashful smile on her face and the proud brightness of that rich emotion reflected into those deep emerald lakes.

"I know that we have known each other for just a couple of months," She says taking your shaky hands in hers, stroking your knuckles with her thumbs with such tenderness that combined with what she is saying makes your eyes well up with tears.

"Although," She continues, voice shifting with that unmistakable, more teasing inflection, "There are those few other months you have spent following me around, and I consider them as... _foreplay."_ You would probably swat her and deny the accusation that you have "followed her around" more than three times tops, if it weren't for how stuck and breathless you still feel, even more when she concludes with a simple, yet truthful and mutual, "But I feel like I already know you, Piper."

She does.

She really, _really_ does.

Even if at the moment you are unable to summon your voice to tell her that.

But, somehow, bravery doesn't need your voice, as one of your hand, with a will of its own, makes it on the back of her neck just before you lean in to kiss her.

And in the moment your lips touch hers, it is like your heart has finally resumed beating again. Double time.

Like your lungs can fully expand once more, and way beyond their capacity.

Filling with the essence of her.

The first tear spill down your cheek in the moment you feel Alex wrap her arm around your waist while her other hand cups your jaw, not to guide you, or change direction or angle, or take charge like she usually does, but just... to hold you close to her.

Willingly surrendering to you.

And you take the occasion to pour everything you feel into that kiss. Everything you haven't been able to tell her for weeks, so that when you pull back, breathless, panting softly, shakily, and lean your forehead against hers, swallowing down the rest of your tears when you feel her wipe a second one on your cheekbone and tenderly brush her nose against the side of yours, the words that finally fall from your lips, breathed against hers, feel like an unnecessary - although fulfilling - completeness.

"I love you too, Alex."

And the smile that takes over your face is so big and wide that it hurts, your eyes glistening so much that you see blurry before you blink the new tears away, but once you do, you pull back just enough to look at Alex's face, that gorgeous face that is lit up with that same sentiment, veiled by a lingering shade of vulnerability, but most of all with relief and infinite contentment.

"I've been meaning to tell you for a while, but I..." You pause, shaking your head because you honestly don't know what had you hold back, but you don't need to explain.

"It's okay, baby." Alex reassures, wiping away yet another escaped tear, catching it with her lips this time, carefully, to not smudge your makeup. "You don't need to explain."

She says, so completely understandingly, and then, softly, so softly that you can barely hear it, she adds that reason that had you so hesitant about saying those words out loud in the first place.

"...I was scared, too."

You look up at her, because yeah, Alex really knows you and feels you, because it is the same that she feels, too.

This time she is the one who leans in and you greedily meet her halfway, accepting everything she gives you, to the point that the kiss starts losing its reassuring innocence and, unsurprisingly, it turns into something a little more heated, tiptoeing towards something definitely more passionate involving a probing tongue and not-so-subtly wandering hands.

"We should probably stop while we have all of our clothes on." You advise breathlessly, although your voice is strained with protest and your hands are still underneath Alex's blazer, cupping hips quite possessively even if over her shirt. Well... _mostly._

Alex isn't too happy about hearing that either, groaning her dissent, and pulling her hands away from where they had magnetically found their way on the zip on the back of your dress.

"If earlier I was slightly inclined to delay our arrival in favor of... _other things,"_ She alludes with a brief, playful wiggle of her eyebrow. "Now I'm _so_ much more reluctant about going at all."

God, you know how she feels, but when she tries to lean in to kiss you again, knowing that you won't be able to resist to that incredibly persuasive, deviously smart mouth of hers, you pull back.

"Nuh uh, Miss Vause. I don't think so." You admonish her clicking your tongue and pressing a hand on her chest to push her back. "We have come so far, give it just another push."

She sighs, a bit disappointed about delaying your alone time, but also resulted to indeed finish what you have already started.

"Fine. But I want to take you somewhere after all this," She requests. "To celebrate and spend some time together without other stuff getting between us." She adds, as if playfully bargaining to make a deal, and the thought is so, so tempting you won't be able to argue even if you wanted to. And there is no way you would ever want that, or not even melt a little from the inside when Alex, with that stunning smirk of hers, asks you, "Where would you like to go, kid?"

You wrap your arms around her broad shoulders once more, pressing a kiss on the crook of her neck before resting your forehead there with a happy sigh, inhaling deeply the calming, intoxicating scent of her skin and perfume.

"Anywhere with you." You hum, blissfully, feeling her shiver ever so slightly against you when your warm breath brushes softly against her neck.

 _Anywhere as long as you are there with me,_ you think, because doesn't matter where you are, you are starting to get the feeling that all you need is having Alex next to you.

She is safe, warm, and always there.

She is starting to feel like... home.

"Alright, Antarctica it is then." She jokes and you have to pull back with a sudden burst of laughter. "You'll observe and write a piece about the Penguins mating in the region, and I'll build us a cozy igloo. Go ice fishing maybe."

"Mh, okay I get your point, smartass. So _maybe_ someplace warmer then." You suggest in between chuckles, utterly mesmerized by the way the gold in her eyes always comes up from those depths to sparkle whenever she is amused.

Only now there is something so much warmer and so deeply affectionate in there, too. Glimmering so much more brightly.

"Like an island?" She asks. "Romantic Maui? Or a more adventurous Borneo?"

Both incredibly tempting offers, but you know that if you'll start thinking about it, you won't get out and go to the auction anytime soon.

So you just smile at her, a bit mischievously and enigmatic, pulling her closer for one last quick kiss. "I love the sound of that, and we can discuss this in details after tonight. For now, I'm going to enjoy the earrings as a gift." You tell her, hand coming up to touch the extremely elegant piece of jewelry on your ear. You keep out the _"and your company for the night"_ part, but Alex is already grinning, with that knowing look in her eyes, and that pleased curl of her lips at the implication that you have finally officially accepted her thoughtful gift.

"So you like them?"

"I _adore_ them," You correct her. "That was never the question, Al. And... Thank you, they are a lovely gift."

She nods and smiles, softly. "You're welcome, kid."

It is only when she tilts her head down and see her touching her wrist, fiddling self-consciously with the unbuttoned cuff of her shirt peeking out from beneath the one of the blazer that you notice it.

A detail that in its simplicity makes you smile broadly.

Because, knowing that Alex Vause, famous, most elusive thief of all times, who can fool the most sophisticated and advanced security system and can craft masterpieces of jewelry with those extremely dexterous hands of hers, was so nervous about tonight - about seeing you and telling you what you have both finally admitted out loud to each other - to properly button up the cuffs of her shirt, is something that fills your chest with an overwhelming surge of warm affection.

"Here." You chuckle, already reaching out to fix that for her. "Let me."

"Jeez, that's embarrassing. But thanks, _mom."_ She jokes, playfully rolling her eyes, but extending her arm nonetheless.

"Not that I'm complaining," You start, ignoring her pretended antics, and voicing the first thought you had when you saw her dressed like this. "But, I thought you would be wearing a dress for tonight as well."

Alex hums, offering her other cuff when you have buttoned and neatly folded the first one.

"I like to be more... let's say action-ready, when I visit someplace where there are all those nice rare things you have mentioned laying around in our host's mansion."

 _Of course, that's the reason,_ and you feel a bit silly for not considering such a fundamental aspect of her... other profession.

It is going to be extremely interesting having the most wanted thief of the world in such an appealing environment. You expect something no different than leading a child in a toy store although, knowing Alex, she is going to be much more subtle, like... green eyes sparkling with interest, and unconsciously fiddling fingers that barely resist the urge to reach out and touch some precious, shiny item.

"Which reminds me..." She adds thoughtfully, pulling you back into the present, looking towards the stairs leading up to her bedroom and office. "I need to go grab a few things before we head out."

"Oh?"

"Tools of the trade." She explains secretly with a wink. "Just in case I decide to check someplace or _something_ out. Don't worry about it, Pipes. No one will notice anything."

You don't, worry you mean, not _really,_ but can't help looking at her with a hint of suspicious in your playfully narrowed eyes.

"So you're no longer worried about possibly pissing off the shady host gem dealer?"

She shakes her head, shrugs her shoulders and you watch as her smile turns more soft and honest from teasing and light.

"I was worried about you, Piper. Knowing you went there alone." She explains, and you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt at her words, wondering how such feeling could be possible if you still don't feel regret for doing so.

"But this time I'll be there with you," She says, tone bordering into an assurance. "And if things get unpleasant, I'll keep you safe."

With that she smiles and then makes her way upstairs, with the promise of being back in just a couple of minutes, telling you to make yourself at home while she gets those last few things.

You know what she means with that _"keep you safe."_

You know that her being concerned has nothing to do with doubts about her believing that you can't take care of yourself.

But the fact that she is still so convinced that these people are potentially dangerous, makes you think, and has you a bit nervous as well.

 _I don't want anything to happen to you, Piper..._

Her words from a couple of days ago echo in your head once more, remembering the seriousness in her tone and in that piercing green gaze.

You share that same concern. Now more than ever.

You don't want anything to happen to Alex either.

And you know that if she is concerned and cautious about this, about meeting these people and possibly dealing with them, she must be because she has a reason to.

After another few seconds of contemplation you release your bottom lip from where you have been unconsciously worrying it, trapped between your teeth, reaching for your phone in your clutch bag, and after another glance towards the stairs leading up to the softly lit bedroom from where you can hear Alex finishing to get ready, you turn around and head outside onto the balcony, taking in a long deep breath as you scroll through your list of contacts, and releasing it into the chilly night wind blowing up here when you find the recently added one.

Your thumb hovers over the name, hesitantly, but just for a few more seconds before finally pressing call.

Your hand shakes a bit when you bring the phone to your ear, but those traces of nervousness and doubt fade away as you turn to face the stunning, secret garden of roses around the corner.

 _It is the right thing,_ you think, heart fluttering with the memory of your first time with Alex up here.

 _Safer._

The phone rings.

And you hope that Alex isn't going to be too mad at you about this.

* * *

 **Yep, another fluff-fest. And they finally said it. I have to admit, I was very tempted to have Piper say it first like someone suggested, but... I simply couldn't resist the idea of having Alex looking a bit nervous and bashful after she said it, kind of like canon Vauseman the first time they said that word to each other :)**


	13. Chapter 13

Hey everyone!

I know, it's been a while, sorry for the long wait, and thank you for being so patient and for all your kind words guys, I'm so happy you have enjoyed the previous chapter and Vauseman love confession :D It took me a little longer to get this chapter done because I really wanted to give it to you complete, and not split in two separate parts.

It's really, really long guys, I'm not joking. So you better go grab a snack or something before diving in, lol. The road is gonna be a bit bumpy too, especially towards the end of the chapter :P

Enjoy

* * *

The mansion is even more beautiful than you remember.

But that's probably an impression delivered even more strongly by the stunning lights that you haven't seen during your daytime visit, enveloping into a warm soft orange glow the rooms and the other decorations that have been specifically arranged for the evening and for the guests' appreciation.

Alex appears to be impressed by the decor and the general structure of the mansion itself as well. Even from the outside. Although, just like you were the first time you came here, even she is a bit suspicious by the vastness and eccentricity of the place.

"Dealing gems is profitable," She comments, as you make your way up the stairs towards the main entrance. "But this seems a little too much. Unless our host has other deals going on."

You don't comment on that suspicion. Just wrap your arm a bit more tightly around Alex's elbow and lean closer to her when you feel an icy shiver crawl up your spine at the implications and knowledge, trying to shake off that sensation clinging to you that makes you feel like you might be stepping inside a potentially dangerous situation.

"Are you cold?" Alex concerned question as she tugs you just that tiny bit closer is enough to curl your lips into a smile, but you shake your head in negative. Because yeah, thinking better of it, you could have grabbed a jacket or a scarf considering the chilly breeze blowing outside, but you melt immediately when you feel Alex's warmth pressed more closely against you and the touch of her hand stroking softly your arm up and down.

The remnants of that chill are taken away when you step inside and right into the vast foyer where the air is much warmer, both from the lights and from the number of people filling the space, which is actually a bit more crowded than what you expected it to be.

There are already many guests milling around, all nicely dressed, music playing in the background, and caterers winding discreetly in between groups of people to offer appetizers and champagne.

"Well, look at that," Alex announces, sounding surprised, but at the same time not so much after all. "And here I thought it was going to be just the usual, boring, pretentious auction."

You can't exactly distinguish the tone that seeps in that statement, something like humor tinged with sarcasm, but... not really. The impression you have is that she actually expected something like this. At last, you just shrug, pointing out that "It's possible that Mr. Balik wanted to spoil his potential buyers, making them a bit breezy with all these bubbles before starting. Alcohol might get them to lift the paddle faster."

You realize a bit too late the way that came out, sounding suspiciously like something else entirely, and witnessing Alex's smirk at that choice of words isn't a surprise at all.

"You make an excellent point, kid." She says and thankfully, she doesn't comment further, even though you can see the glint of amusement shimmering just beneath the surface of those vibrant green lakes.

Your heart flutters in front of that sly smile. Some other parts of you respond as well, and just as intensely - and for the tenth time in as many minutes, you are kind of regretting not taking up on the occasion that had presented earlier at Alex's place.

Arriving fashionably late with the excuse of spending some intimate, quality time together is the only thing on your mind now that you have her so close to you, warm and solid and dressed so exquisitely... and also with all these people around, that make any of those compelling scenarios that have started to cross your mind, of you and her naked in bed, impossible to act on, and oddly enough, so much more appealing.

On the other hand, if you would have given in to that desire, you might not have found any reason to get out of bed at all; anything you wanted and needed would have been right there with you.

But that's fine. You can wait till later, for now, you are just going to enjoy having her near you, innocently like this, and of course, focus on the reason you are here, just like Alex reminds you, flashing you that teasing, knowing look that seems to say "I know what you have been thinking about."

A look that is enough to paint your cheeks into a soft, warm, blush.

"Come," You say, clearing softly your throat and leading her further inside, past the foyer and towards the main living room where even more people have gathered. "Let's see if we can find our host."

It's an excuse, a diversion to not have Alex look at you that way, and eventually, it works.

She focuses on the surrounding, spotting the cameras that you had previously mentioned to her, and glancing at the windows and all the other ways that can lead outside in the couple main rooms you pace lazily around pretending to mingle with the rest of the guests.

Honestly, if you didn't know what Alex is doing, you would probably never catch her in the act. She is so subtle that even you, already keeping a close look at her, have difficulties in catching her thoroughly examining the place, but it's that curious glint in her eyes what gives her away. A look that passes unnoticed to everyone around, dozens and dozens of people that are totally oblivious of who this magnificent creature is, even though a few curious gazes linger - much to your non-jealous self - on her for a few beats longer. And the fact that you always stay by her side, making sure that your arm or your hand is always laced with hers, well... that's just a coincidence, of course.

Nothing to do with a tiny bit of flickering jealousy.

Pfff, of course not.

From the amused look that shapes Alex's features, however, even if she doesn't say anything when you pull her closer than necessary when a woman eyes her up and down and has the audacity to throw her a seductive smirk, then Alex definitely seems to think otherwise.

You are immensely grateful when, probably on purpose, she diverts your attention by asking you about the fuse box and where you have seen it. Promptly pulling you back to the task at hand and pushing those thoughts and feelings of non-jealousy far away from your mind.

"Over there," You gesture with a tilt of your chin, indicating the hallway under the stairs leading to the upper floor from the foyer.

"So what's the plan." You whisper conspiratorially in her ear.

"Not getting caught snooping around," Alex smirks and you roll your eyes at her in exasperation, but there is also a hint of affection in it, despite how much of a smug smartass she looks like right now.

"All right," Alex starts, summarizing once she has taken a proper look around the place. "The auction is taking place over there apparently- they seem to have arranged the ballroom for it. I'm going to check that box out when everyone is there."

"Just to be sure." You hesitate. "You don't intend robbing the place, _do you?"_

"I don't know. Like you said there are a few interesting items around, I might decide to." From the look that she is giving you, you really don't know if she means it or if she is just teasing you. "But for now it is only a precaution for taking a better look around." She reassures, but the doubt lingers in your mind.

You are just about to voice it to her when the music gets turned down and someone over a microphone announces that the auction is going to start in a matter of minutes and to please take a seat in the adjacent room.

"Our host seems to be a tad shy. No sight of him yet?" Alex asks with a suspicious frown knitting her eyebrows as you make your way to the arranged, vast, ballroom.

You look around like you have done since you have arrived, trying to spot him but... "No. I don't see him anywhere."

For a moment though, just before you are about to enter the ballroom, you seem to spot someone else.

A familiar face, among the group of caterers gathering used glasses and putting away the rest of the appetizers, catches your interest.

You crane your neck to try and have a better look, but in the moment you blink, it is gone.

"You okay there, kid?"

It is Alex's voice that pulls you out from your scrutiny, it takes you a moment to focus and you know that even if she doesn't say anything, the nod and smile that you give her, aren't very convincing. But there is that doubt, that has settled in the back of your mind, and you can't help but look in that direction again. But once more, as to reaffirm your disappointment, that face you thought you knew, that flash of someone you thought you were just there to recognize with just a better glance, is no longer there.

You shake your head.

It was probably just one of those faces...

 **. . .**

"Sold for ten thousand dollars to the paddle 457." The auctioneer announces, banging the gavel.

A wave of applause erupts all around and you join in, more because you are completely baffled than anything else, still having to wrap your head around what just happened.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," You whisper, leaning in closer to Alex's seat as soon as that shock has diminished a little, enough for you to find your voice. "But did that guy just spent ten thousand dollars to buy a quarter?"

"A quarter from 1783," Alex corrects, mocking indignation at your generalization before the pretended look of shock crumbles easily and she bursts out chuckling, as expected.

"But yeah. He did. Coins collectors." She comments, shaking her head in amusement. "Never got that kind of enthusiasm, especially not for old rusty coins." Her lips purse into a brief little sneer at the image, shuddering too for good measure, and your chuckles only intensify at that, because of course...

Alex likes bright, shiny things that make the same stars envious, and will never lose their sparkle for ages to come.

Your interest, however, gets ignited once more when you look down at the auction program folder and see what the next piece is.

But apparently, this is also the exact moment that Alex decides to put her back up-precaution plan into action.

"I'm going to go check that fuse box." She announces just as the auctioneer introduces the next lot as it is brought over.

"What? Right now? But they are selling a Turner, and a Rembrandt after that," You protest in a whisper, looking longingly at the painting being carefully placed on the easel, depicting a ship on a troubled, stormy sea. Even from here, in the last row, where Alex suggested you should seat to be more close to the exit, it looks beautiful. And you barely resist the urge to huff indignantly since you have been curious to see how high such an exceptional painting was going to sell, but it seems like Alex sees this as the best opportunity.

"Trust me." She says, and you already do, even before she explains further. "Everybody in here is going to be fighting over that piece and the next one for a while. This is my chance if I want to take a look around."

You certainly don't argue over such logic. But you surely argue when she moves to stand with a simple, "I'll be back in a few."

"Wait, are you going alone?" You whisper-shout incredulous, wrapping your hand around her elbow to pull her down again, stopping her just in time.

Alex merely smirks with amusement at you.

"It may sound absurd to you kid, but usually, I tend to work alone."

"Oh no." You shake your head, narrowing your eyes at her in a challenging glare. "Tonight you're not. We came here together, didn't we?"

The auctioneer is about to finish describing the painting, and as soon as Alex realizes it, not wanting to waste any more precious time, she just sighs. "There is no way you are going to let me do this on my own, is there?"

"Not a chance."

Alex groans, rolling her eyes but she doesn't look half as disappointed as she is trying to appear.

"Fine. But we need to go, right now."

That's all you need to hear to leave your seat.

And, just as Alex predicted, all of the guests' attention is directed to that exceptional painting that you watch grow smaller as you sneak out of the room, completely undetected.

 **. . .**

Despite the impressive amount of guests invited and the value of the lots presented at the auction, you are beyond surprised that there are no guards around to surveil the place. Which is a relief. For you at least.

Alex however, she is a bit disappointed, just like she seems to be about the old cameras and security system installed, not to mention annoyed about the fact that "everybody underestimates the importance of pointing a camera towards the fuse box."

"It sounds a lot like you are complaining." You can't help but point out when you reach the mentioned box hanging on the hallway wall, under the main stairs leading on the first floor, keeping an eye out for any other presence.

The rest of the caterers have apparently moved towards the kitchen and the other major living room on the other side of the mansion where the after auction party should take place.

Alex scoffs at your comment, pulling out a pair of disposable black gloves and a picklock set from her vest pocket. She puts on the gloves and gets in position to open the sturdy lock secured on the box's panel.

"I'm not. But I appreciate when there is... more of a challenge. Keeps up my adrenaline and concentration." She explains, and then, just like that, after barely two seconds from having inserted the pick locks, and with just a little twist of her hand, the lock clicks open, and Alex turns to look at you with that same please smirk.

"There you go. Open, sesame."

"That was easy enough." You comment as she opens the panel, definitely impressed but not surprised by yet another demonstration of what those incredibly talented hands can do.

Red immediately tinges your cheeks when much more inappropriate thoughts involving those hands gather in your mind.

"All right, let's see what we have here." Thankfully, once Alex is focused, she is much less of a teasing little shit, which is something you appreciate immensely at the moment, even if the seriousness in her all-business look and knowledge that you are technically watching the most wanted thief of the world at work is... Just another reason for your face to grow warmer and your stomach to tighten with an irrepressible stab of excitement.

It's so hard not get turned on simply by watching her in action...

You swallow that sensation down and pretend to ignore it when it starts swirling lower in your belly, by taking a peek into the panel as well and-

Well...

The mess of cables is enough to tune that feeling down a bit and let some anxiety surface instead.

But Alex seems unconcerned, mumbling a bit to herself, cataloging the contents of the box, from the side that contains the electrical control panel, to the one beside it, where the security system has been installed.

"It's an old model," It's what she confirms, eventually, thoughtfully. "Secure enough, but just like many of this kind, it can be cheated."

You lean in closer, honestly curious by how she is going to "cheat it."

"This is the main cable of the security system. If I disconnect it without the key-" She explains pointing to the tiny lock encased on top. "-the alarm will go off as a defensive measure, but if I do this..."

It is when she starts fiddling with cables, selecting a few and then unplugging them that your anxiety turns into a brief panic.

But... nothing happens.

Still, you hold your breath and watch with that swelling feeling as she plugs them back in a different order.

"There." She announces, and you wonder how can she do this and sound so calm when your heart is still pounding in your throat with dread of getting caught any minute.

"The electricity still flows but I have disables the cameras from recording."

"That's it?" You sputter, still half panicked and at the same time a bit shocked by her expertise in the matter. You're starting to think that some of those rumors about the red rose thief having some crazy advanced electronic knowledge comparable to an Asian genius weren't bullshit after all.

Alex's satisfied smile turns into that smirk again.

Ugh.

So irritating.

"Careful there. Now you are the one that sounds a bit disappointed, kid."

You narrow your eyes at her, ready to answer her, but before you can even open your mouth and say anything, the sounds of a door closing and steps on marble floor resonate all around, followed by the one of a voice. Someone speaking on a phone in a foreign language - maybe one of Mr. Balik's associates, the ones you have noticed around during your first visit - and heading towards what seems to be your direction.

Your heart jumps in your throat again, and even if you trust Alex, you can't help but wonder if maybe she has done something, messing up with the security cameras that is about to get you caught.

Alex curses under her breath, hurriedly closing the panel and locking the box again, while you look around in search for a way out that isn't through the foyer, because whoever that person is, is coming right from there.

The door on the other side of the hallway is the nearest and it seems that Alex thinks of it as the only good idea too as she pulls you along towards it.

Luckily, it is unlocked and you manage to sneak in just a few seconds before the steps round the corner. Alex clicks the door shut as quietly as she can and promptly presses you against the wall just behind it, and as the breath catches in your throat and your heartbeat thrums heavily in your ears, you try not to think about how much the fear of getting caught and the sensation of having Alex pressed so close to you, mingle so deliciously with the feeling that had sparked just a few minutes ago outside when you were watching her work her magic.

Because now it's definitely not the time to feel certain things.

Nope.

Alex heartbeat is much more controlled against your chest though, calm even, which is so comforting right now, in a way you didn't know you needed to feel to start breathing again. Inhaling deeply, though silently, drinking in her scent. So reassuring and sweetly grounding - against the adrenaline that threatens to drown you - like the soft, gentle hand placed on your waist, of which warmth you can feel even through your dress and the gloves that Alex is still wearing.

"All clear."

It is only when Alex whispers those two words that you realize you have closed your eyes, blocking out the rest of the world for a couple of seconds, and when they flutter open once more, they lock immediately on soft green ones.

The room is dark all around, except the light filtering through the windows of... you look around what seems to be an empty library you seem to have sneaked into?

But even in that partial darkness surrounding you, you are still able to make out Alex's profile and the outline of the amused, curious smile that tugs at her lips. And those eyes, piercing right through the partial darkness.

"He has walked on the other side of the hallway. Heard another door closing behind him. It wasn't about the cameras." She assures, seeming to read what your main concern was about, and that smile only widens even more when she notices your gaze shifting down to her mouth as she speaks.

Neither of you makes a move to even put some space between you two now that the potential danger is gone.

"You are enjoying this too much I'm afraid." It's what Alex says after a moment, and you can't even pretend to look outraged by the accusation.

Because honestly? How could you not enjoy this?

Sure, you almost got caught but...

That thrill.

That shock of electricity and the adrenaline winding through the system that has left you buzzing all over...

You wonder if this is how Alex feels every time she sneaks into a museum to steal something.

It's... Intoxicating.

Addictive.

Just like the heat and the feeling of the exquisite body pressed so sweetly against yours, and the scent that fills your nostrils and lungs, making those feelings burn all the brighter inside you. Like a flame devouring oxygen.

"You make it so much more enjoyable." You tell her at last, and if the words come out as a low breathy purr, well... it's not intentional. Not really. You did almost get caught and rushed into hiding after all.

Alex just grins, knowingly, and then leans in when you curl your hand on the back of her neck, a simple wordless request that she grants immediately.

It's dangerous engaging in something like this. Here. _Now._

But at the same time, you can't really resist it.

The softness of her lips against yours is almost enough to make you forget where you are, and, inevitably, you end up losing yourself in the warmth of her mouth when Alex deepens the kiss.

When you pull back it is with extreme reluctance, but you have to, if you don't want to give in to the low humming feeling that is quickly spreading and descending lower in your belly.

Your hands are still on her, curled around her waist, holding her closer despite being already pressed as tightly together as possible in this position. And it is because of that, that you feel it.

That something bumpy in her pants pocket.

"Brought a few of those toys you mentioned tonight?" You ask a bit disappointed that she probably can't see very well the way you suggestively wiggle your eyebrows at her.

"Maybe I'm just happy to see you." She quips and you snort, sneaking a hand between your bodies, feeling for the pocket of her slacks, and, sure enough, there is something there.

A couple of tiny spheric objects.

"What's this?" You ask pulling one out, and trying to understand what it might be in the shadows.

"Impact smoke bomb."

The answer comes easy enough and it startles you a little.

"What? Like those used in magic tricks?" You chuckle incredulously. "You plan on making a Houdini style escape tonight?" You tease her, and Alex, with a hint of that smirk still visible in the partial darkness, offers one of those cryptic answers of her that only leaves you with the lingering doubt.

"You never know, kid."

She takes the little bomb back and secures it in one of her pockets before turning around, feeling the wall, searching for a switch.

Lights flick on and you are welcomed by the sight of what indeed is a library, wrapped in a smooth orange glow.

"Since we are already here, I suppose there is no harm in taking a look around, is there?" Alex asks, already stepping away from the wall to take in the room. A mix of mischief and excitement dripping from her voice. A tone and a look that makes impossible any attempt of not be affected by.

The library isn't as spacious as you thought it would be, not considering the dimensions of the estate at least, but it's still very nicely stocked, even if most of the books are written in different middle-eastern languages.

Other than that the place is nicely furnished. There is a desk, a solid piece of ancient furniture, beautifully crafted, beside one of the windows, and sofas and chairs around a glass coffee table arranged in the center of the room, all resting over the large wonderfully decorated Persian carpet.

If there is something that you have noticed in your second visit here, is that Mr. Balik seems to have good taste.

A fact that is once more proved right when in your observation, you notice another incredible painting hanging on the wall in between the two main bookshelves.

"Is that..." You squint and then your eyes widen in disbelief once more. "Is that another Turner landscape?!" The shocked question is more directed at yourself than to Alex, though she comes closer to inspect the painting as well when she hears the wonder in your voice.

"Constable." She corrects then after a thorough scrutiny.

"It's incredible."

"As incredible as it's fake."

Your head whips on the side to look at her then. Eyes wide and incredulous. Almost as if you have just been slapped.

"What?!" The sputter and added note of shock in your look does nothing if not amuse Alex more."How can you say that?"

She chuckles at the sight of your disbelief, but then she turns towards the painting and explains.

"Look at the colors." She advices, and you do, squinting in concentration, searching for that something, that easy giveaway that made Alex recognize a false with so much certainty. Not quite able to shake off the feeling that she might just be fucking with you. But then she actually makes some compelling arguments.

"See how they have been mingled together, especially the blue in the sky? Almost like watercolors. This paint is acrylic. Which was invented over a century after Constable supposedly painted this. Painters of that period mostly used oil on canvases, and this surely isn't oil. Also... The frame doesn't match. But," She adds as a general thought as she leans back to better admire the landscape in its completeness. "The painting is a good imitation I guess."

You turn to look more fully at her, blinking. Stunned. But at the same time... not so much.

All you know for sure of is that you hate - just a little - how much you secretly love when she gets nerdy like that.

"Do you have any idea how hot you sound when you say things like that?"

Ok...

 _That_ was supposed to stay in your head.

Because the last thing you want is inflating Alex's ego with your flattering.

Too late.

Although... Strangely enough, doesn't appear too smug at the blurted confession.

She gives you that curious look, the one you are quickly becoming very familiar with.

"You mean, say things that only one of those annoying, arrogant, pretentious, omniscient art experts would say?" She inquires suspiciously, and yet there is that same oily drop of amusement leaking into her smooth, deep voice making it sound even more velvety.

You hum, nodding, hoping that your blush isn't so visible after all. "More or less. But you aren't annoying-" Well, not so much, you tell yourself in afterthought when one of those irritating, beautiful smirks of hers flash in your mind. "-and you definitely aren't pretentious."

"Why thank you." Alex chuckles. "Always a relief hearing that."

You move on from the painting, inspecting the few books in English. Some are old, but none happen to be part of a rare edition.

"Well well. Look at what we have here..."

The sound of Alex's pleased surprise as she picks up something from a shelf diverts your attention from an encyclopedia of minerals - similar to the one you have noticed in Alex's workshop.

She is admiring one of those object nestled in between two thick blocks of glass, but once you are close enough to see what it actually is inside, you can't help but huff a laugh, especially when you notice the look of mischievous interest that lits Alex's face up as she admires it.

"I thought you weren't one of those rare coin fanatics collectors." You mock her, playfully turning her earlier words back to her.

Because yeah, that's what she said not even ten minutes ago during the auction. And now here she is. Turning back and forth that block in her hands to inspect the faces of the golden coin stuck in there with that expression of bright intrigue, one that turns almost into one of offense in the moment she registers your words.

"This isn't _just_ a coin Piper." She says, eyes wide with both wonder and shock at your assumption. "It's a double eagle."

You just blink at her.

"It's one of the rarest, most wanted coins in the country. Worth millions of dollars."

Oh.

Well, that changes things.

"And he framed it like a picture. Placed it plain sight." She mumbles, shaking her head in puzzlement.

Your frown deepens once more in confusion then, because, "What's wrong with framing it or keeping it in plain view?"

And here Alex actually laughs.

"Because it's illegal to even _possess_ this coin. The federal government has been collecting and melting them for years. There are less than two dozens still around."

Oh... Realization finally sinks into you, shaping your features as it does.

Because now you get why Alex is looking at it with that unmistakable glint in her eyes, because besides for the fact that the coin is made of shiny, sparkly, polished gold, it also happens to be a very forbidden piece of collection.

And Alex _loves_ forbidden, potentially dangerous, troubling things.

Those are the ones that lit up her very essence. Making it sparkle in all its glory.

The same one you drink in with fervor every time you kiss her.

The same one that makes you feel like you live vicariously through her by tasting some of that essence and swallowing it down to rest within you.

After another longing glance at the coin, she looks back at you with that guilty-not-so-guilty expression, shrugging her shoulders in her _"I can't help it"_ sort of way that makes you smile affectionately, even more, when she sighs and puts the block down where she found it.

"Better leave this here. I don't want a free pass for a three years resort in a federal prison."

"He's probably proud to have it." You point out. "That's why he keeps it in sight."

"Or just arrogant." She corrects. "He probably enjoys taking the risk of someone in law enforcement seeing it."

You doubt that Mr. Balik has many friends in law enforcement, but you never know, and you get what she means.

 _Taking the risk..._ That could be something that Alex and your host of the night have in common actually, besides being both kind of elusive and having a thing for collecting shiny things.

You look at the coin once more before glancing back at Alex, flashing her a little smirk. "Maybe once you get your gem back you are just going to frame it, too."

As expected, the ridiculous suggestion has her throw her head back with a soft laugh that turns your smirk into a full grin.

"Usually, as you know, I prefer to use my... _findings,_ instead of keeping them stashed somewhere." She reminds you. Her humor dies down and slowly, something else takes over her face as she glances back at the coin.

"Not to mention that gem is not as unique as this coin is. In some way at least..." The words slip from her lips like a soft mumble, and there is something that crosses her face as she says that.

Something audible under the last fading traces of humor. Something thoughtful and distant, just like her gaze.

It reminds you of the look she gets something when she thinks about her mother. Although, there is no trace of sadness in her eyes this time. But... something else. Veiled. Secret.

And if that look isn't enough, when her words sink in, a frown creases between your eyebrows.

"What do you mean _"in some way"?"_

Everything she told you about that gem is that it is something exceptional, a jewel that has never been found before. Anywhere. Similar to no others. A composition of minerals that crystallized in a unique way.

Alex looks back at you and blinks, as if she had forgotten you were there and it takes her a moment to remember your question and then answer it.

"Nothing." She dismisses, offering you a shake of her head and a small smile that does the opposite of reassuring you.

It looks forced.

It lacks its usual light, and most importantly, the most worrying, suspicious thing, is that it doesn't reach her eyes.

Those green eyes that are still veiled with that something that is barely out of reach.

The shade of an emotion that you recognize an instant before she diverts her gaze from yours, ducking her head, shoulders sagging a bit before straightening, but not to the usual confident posture you are used to see her in, as if she has grown suddenly unable to hold them up under a weight.

The one of a lie.

Guilt.

Your stomach clenches. And a part inside you turns suddenly cold and stiff at the possibility that Alex has been hiding something from you.

But before you can even sort through your thoughts, try to figure out what that might be, and voice what you don't know how to put into words, a question you are not sure you want to hear the answer to, she is already heading towards the door.

"Come on. We should get back," She says, weakly tugging your still very confused, growing concerned self along with her.

"There are just a couple of lots left and who knows, maybe then our host will decide to make an appearance."

 **. . .**

It is exactly how it goes.

You and Alex sneak back in the vast ballroom just as the auction is coming to an end, and, luckily, just like when you left, no one seems to have noticed your return either.

Whatever feeling that had settled in your stomach, after witnessing that strange look on Alex's face and listening to those puzzling words, gets somehow numbed when you slip back into the auction, but the doubt, the suspicious that such look has triggered, it's still there, poking at the edge of your subconscious.

At the end of the auction, when all the guests are leaving the arranged ballroom and heading towards the other side of the mansion for the continuance of the party, you finally manage to spot Mr. Balik just in the moment he spots you, excusing himself to the couple of buyers he was speaking to, to head in your direction.

"Miss Wilder," He greets you, charming smile and all, something that you return but much more dimly.

"Mr. Balik, thank you for the invitation, the auction was very interesting and the lots extraordinary."

His smile only widens further in satisfaction at the mention of the auction, and you as well as Alex, you're sure, can't help but wonder how much he managed to make with all the sold lots.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I apologize for not showing up earlier." He adds sounding truly apologetic. "My... _other business_ kept me busy until not long ago."

You nod and fake a smile that you hope shows understanding and not the suspicious you are trying to cover up at the sound of this... other business of his.

"I don't believe we met." He says then, glancing pointedly at Alex.

Oh. Right.

The subtle invitation snaps you back to formalities.

"This is my partner," It's the way you introduce Alex for a lack of a better term considering the circumstances. "Miss-"

"Just Alex is fine," Alex chides in with a smile, extending a hand that after a moment of hesitation Mr. Balik takes for a firm shake, uttering a polite, "Nice to meet you." But there is something in his look, some sort of puzzled expression that has shaped his exotic features in the moment Alex said her name, but it is gone before you can really question it.

You already know that they have never met in person before.

Although... used to make deals with Alex's mom. You wonder if that look that crossed his face might be because he noticed some sort of a resemblance maybe...

"She is actually the one interested in the... item... we discussed." You tell him, dismissing the thought, and he nods. That look quickly fading away from his face and with it whatever suspicious had settled in your mind in seeing it.

"Of course. Please, join me in my office so we can discuss more privately."

You accept the invitation, feeling Alex buzzing with a strange sort of energy besides you for the short walk across the foyer and into the office you have already been in. You squeeze her arm and offer her a smile, but she doesn't fully return it, her posture is a bit stiff with alert or maybe with just tension in meeting face to face the man that stole from her, or at least, the one responsible for it.

It's understandable.

But you still stroke her arm, soothingly, and eventually, you feel the tight muscles there starting to relax a bit under your touch.

"So, if I may ask, what do you plan to do with this gem?" He wonders once you are in the office and he starts searching around his desk.

"I like collecting things. Rare gems in particular. And from what my partner said, you seem to have exactly what I'm looking for." It's what Alex offers with a nonchalant shrug and a smile. It's hard and strained and nothing that resembles even distantly the smiles you are used seeing on her face. Your host, however, seems to be completely unaware of the drop of understandable antagonism dripping from Alex's voice and directed to him.

"Well, this surely is a piece worthy of a collection." He admits as he unlocks a drawer and pulls out a black velvet wrap, unfolding it with care on the desktop and then, like tiny shimmering stars blinking in the evening, dozens of gems of different sizes and shapes appear.

The breath you just took catches in your throat at the marvelous sight.

It's like watching a piece of the night unfolding. As if a constellation had been torn off the sky itself.

Alex leaves your side to step forward, in awe, drawn like the metaphorical moth to the flame. Or in this case, tiny flames, sparkling bright, catching the light in the room and trapping it within them.

It's quite the sight watching Alex caught in this veiled stupor, and those gemstones splayed so beautifully casually on that black layer of velvet. But there is one in particular that shines darker...

Mr. Balik picks it up carefully and hands it over to Alex along with a pair of tweezers and a magnifier but she doesn't even need it, you know it. Checking it up close like she does is only a formality, an assurance.

Or at least that's what you believe...

"It's a fine piece." She comments after having examined it, tearing you out from your thoughts and leaving you hanging with a strange kind of excitement fluttering in your belly. But there is something lacking in her voice, even more in her look, a note of coldness where you would have expected enthusiasm after looking at something she has been looking for so long. Something she believed lost forever. But when she pulls back, the words that fall from her lips when she hands the gem back, only add to your growing confusion.

"But I would like to look at the real one if you don't mind."

Actually, "confusion" is a very fucking huge understatement.

You are tempted to ask Alex what is going on, but apparently, you are the only one in the room to feel puzzled.

Mr. Balik however, smirks and then nods, knowingly, with an odd kind of satisfaction that leaves you even more lost.

"You really are an expert." He says then before bending to retrieve something in another locked drawer of his desk. You can't see him, but can hear him digit something on an electronic keypad the and then see him press his thumb on what must be a very sophisticated safe, quite odd considering the rest of the security system around the place.

"It doesn't take an expert to distinguish an aquamarine from a blue zircon," Alex says as the safe clicks unlock.

Wordlessly, after some fumbling with a little black velvet box, Mr. Balik hands over another gem to Alex one that seems identical to the first one he presented. And this time, not only she examines it for a lot less time, but she actually smiles, and you notice how her hand shakes the tiniest bit, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard with emotion.

Your heart swells in your chest when she pulls back with that smile on her face, eyes shimmering almost like the tiny crystalized stone held preciously in her palm.

"Usually I have a price established for this kind of things." Mr. Balik says, and the sound of his voice piercing through this moment that Alex has been waiting for so long, it is all that it takes to her to lose that sparkle in her eyes, that warmth in her look, the smile on her face and turn into something harder, something colder, something that you understand the reason for. "-But this piece is something... unique. So why don't you make me an offer, tell how much is forth for you, and then we move from there?"

Alex's jaw twitches and her lips quirk into an equally cold smile.

"Sure. I was thinking the same price it has already been paid for it."

This time you are not the only one who startles. Mr. Balik looks taken aback as well with the bluntness of that statement.

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago, you sold this very same gem to a woman, a jewels designer here in New York named Diane Vause."

You thought that the point of tonight was going to be end up making a deal, not with Alex confronting him like this. Even without considering his shady reputation it seems a pretty dangerous, mined zone to step in so carelessly.

You trust Alex. You really do. And you want her to chose how to deal with this, but still, some apprehension starts to stir, very uncomfortably in your stomach.

You are almost there to chide in, make Alex retreat just a little, but before you can consider better that option, the look that you have noticed earlier during the introduction passes briefly across 's face once more, dark eyes widening and recognition smoothing out his features.

"You're her." He says. "Alex. Alex Vause. I remember you now."

"And I remember your _employee,"_ Alex says, looking pleased by the end of the charade. "The one who sold my mother this gem."

"He made a mistake. One he paid for. That gem was never supposed to be sold in the first place."

 _Wait._

 _What?_

Even in the thickening air around that is further swelling some anxiety in you, that information definitely gets your full interest.

"You are a smart woman, Miss Vause." He says and there is no mocking there, just a hard honesty. "You have been since you were a teenager, stubborn and a bit troubling like your mother used to say-" It's hard not to notice the way Alex clenches her fist or tightens her jaw at the mention of her mother from this person that stole from her- "-but very clever. Talented, too. And I know why you want that gem. I know _you know_ from where it comes. Don't pretend not to. Or you wouldn't be here now, would you?"

The knowing, twisted smile that he flashes Alex makes you shiver from the inside.

"Alex?" Finally, you glance at her, utterly lost in confusing by those words. "What is he talking about?"

But the only answer that you get is a dismissing "It's nothing" that sounds like anything but "nothing."

Mr. Balik looks between you and her, taking notice of the expression on Alex's face, the same one you have seen flashing there, back in the library. That veil of something hiding a truth, something important, and that feeling of before, the suspicious that had nestled in the depth of your stomach, rises again with a vengeance.

"Oh. That's interesting." The smile that he gives you, the way he nods, has nothing to do with humor, but intrigue, as if he's watching something very unexpected unfold in front of him. And you wish it was different, but his next words cut deep. Sharp like the truth held in them.

"It seems like your _partner_ hasn't shared all the information with you," He says, voicing out loud that same doubt that had been pushed in the back of your mind, and you hate how he says that word, _partner,_ like it is some part of a joke you didn't know you were in. But it's even harder to ignore when Alex avoids your gaze in your search for an explanation.

Something inside you cracks wide open, cold and hollow when she refuses to meet your eyes.

She _did lie_ to you.

About what, you don't know, but you doubt it is anything good, although, apparently you don't have to wonder so much since your host seems willing to inform you.

"Well, since she seems hesitant to share the details, please, let me do the honor." You are not sure you want to hear it but at the same time curiosity and the need to know have the better of you.

"What do you know about the Nuestra Señora de Atocha, Miss Wilder?"

The question is so random that it startles you a bit.

"The Spanish galleon?" You frown. "What does that have to do with..."

But then your voice trails off, because the question, now that you connect the dots, isn't random at all...

It wasn't just a Spanish galleon.

It wasn't just a ship, that sank, because of a hurricane, near the Florida Keys. Over three centuries ago.

It was a ship that sank when it was returning home. Laden with tobacco, copper, silver, _gold and..._

You swallow. Hard.

 _And an incredible amount of precious gems._

Realization is slow and sharp and barbed and strangely fulfilling and conclusive all at once despite its rough, spiked edges that scrape your insides raw.

Your eyes widen as you turn sharply to look at Alex, who still refuses to meet your gaze, now downcast with something not unlike embarrassment and... guilt.

"That's the one." Mr. Balik's grave voice resonates around the office, a wicked kind of satisfaction in seeing the wounded look on your face at Alex's omission. "Over forty tonnes of gold and seventy pounds of emeralds went lost in that shipwreck among other valuable items. A treasure worth seven hundred millions. But some of it went recovered. The rest was brought away by the currents, scattered all over the seabed probably..."

His voice fades into a hum in your ears, you barely register the details, returning to glance at Alex instead, unable to take your eyes off her, shocked, confused.

But most of all, hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You ask her then, and it takes a lot to keep your voice steady, to not let that hurt spreading inside you seep into it and collide with the tension that keeps thickening like mist in the room.

This time, Alex turns to look at you. Eyes evasive and apologetic as she utters an answer you don't know if you believe.

"I wasn't sure, Piper."

She wasn't sure? Or she didn't _trust you_ with that detail of information?

The questions are there, swirling relentlessly and threatening to drive you mad.

"I'm afraid I can't sell that gem to you." Mr. Balik interrupts your staring contest, trying to find the answer to those questions in Alex's green eyes but finding nothing if not regret and apologies in those now dim depths.

"It's a piece of history." He continues. "Not to mention the only gem that has been recovered from the other presumed dozen that was logged aboard that ship when it sank. All extracted from a mine that collapsed centuries ago and which location is now long forgotten."

"You seemed quite willing to sell it to me not even two minutes ago." Alex points out, disdain straining her voice once more, maybe even more strongly than before considering that Mr. Balik revealed something she didn't want you to know for some reason.

"You scam people." She accuses, and even under your layer of hurt you find a part of yourself that understands her anger. It's justified. But still unwise right now. "And then you rob them."

Alex has never robbed anyone. You know it. The pieces of ancient jewelry that... catch her interest, don't belong to anyone, and haven't for centuries.

The last thing that you expected to hear from Mr. Balik at the blunt accusation, is a laugh.

It shakes you back into the present, but not far away from those thoughts.

The sound is humorless, and anything like understanding shows on his face.

It chills you from the inside. And, almost instinctively, you find yourself stepping closer to Alex. Seeking for that extra warmth and reassurance that contrasts with everything you are currently feeling for her after her omission.

"It seems like you are not going to let this go, are you?" Mr. Balik asks then, but it's a rhetorical question.

Alex throws him a challenging smile, and while you are a bit envious of the bravery she can muster, you still don't think it's a wise choice. She is the one who told you how these people are the opposite kind with which someone can joke around.

"You are a businessman and I came here to make a deal." She states, shoulders pulled back, head held high, chin jutting out. It inspires a strength and bravery you are nowhere near to even grasp at the moment. On the contrary, you are struggling to not give in to the feeling of uneasiness stirring more insistently inside you.

Mr. Balik nods and after a moment of contemplation, he pulls out his phone makes a quick call but speaks in his language. Farsi maybe. And what you don't understand, inevitably, makes you worried, too.

You and Alex exchange a look, she tries to reassure you, she looks calm enough, but you don't like one bit the look in your host's eyes when he ends the call.

It's cold and calculated.

Like the one of someone who has just found a solution to a problem.

"Very well, Miss Vause," And his voice is even less than friendly or reassuring in any way.

A feeling spreads in your stomach, twisting it into knots, making your heart beat at an unstable rhythm. You are about to turn to Alex and ask her to just leave when a man comes in the office, locking the door behind him, but you don't have the occasion to look at his face.

Feeling Alex suddenly stiffening next to you should have been a forewarning.

But then you see it too.

The sight of cold metal is enough to chill you to the bones.

But the sound that the gun makes when Mr. Balik's associate cocks it, and the wicked smile on his boss' face, turn your blood to ice and freeze you in place.

* * *

 ***leaning very carefully over the edge of a cliff after landslide to take a look down* You still there? Good! I'm gonna go make a rope, you just keep hanging on that cliff guys :P**


	14. Chapter 14

Hi everyone!

You guys still hanging there? Here's the rope I promised! You are going to need it ;)

Enjoy

* * *

"What's the meaning of this?"

You have no idea how Alex manages not only to talk, but to also sound and look so unconcerned while you still can't move, can't even breathe, completely stuck into place by the gun pointed at you.

"You wanted a deal." Mr. Balik explains, as if pulling out a gun is just his customary way to reach a deal. And honestly, after all the warnings and concerns that you have heard now about this guy, some of the pieces that have been given you have started to slide in place, and the fact that this might really be how he usually handles business, is just starting to sound like a very expected one.

For the thug that he is.

"This is the only one I'm willing to offer, Miss Vause." He smiles that sharp wicked smile that makes your stomach twist around itself.

"You see, I can't risk having you going to the police and having them even further up my ass than they already are. I appreciate discretion in my business."

"This seems like the exact opposite of discretion." Alex's eyes narrow, jaw clenched and twitching as her gaze shifts between Mr. Balik and the other man who looks very much like his personal, criminal gofer.

"I might have been willing to negotiate before," He continues, completely ignoring Alex's comment. "But I can't look past the little performance you have put to get in here. Or the accusations you have thrown at my face, insulting me in my house." Anger finally surfaces from under his cool controlled façade and that awful smile breaks into a sneer. "That's unacceptable."

"You broke into my house first." Alex, however, even under a threat, doesn't waver. "You _stole_ from me."

The sneer deepens, and the danger twitching on Mr. Balik's clenched fist as he looks at Alex is what snaps you into movement and makes you take a step forward.

"Alex, please-"

But trying to reach for her in an attempt to ground her and prevent her from not provoking further, turns out not to be a welcomed move for Mr. Balik's lackey, who promptly points the gun right at you with suspicious.

"Hey!" And at the sight of it changing target, Alex steps immediately in front of you, more instinctively than protectively, or maybe it is a combination of both, and while you can't see the look on her face, you can clearly picture it just by hearing the unmistakable note of anger in her deep voice when she growls. "You keep that gun pointed at me, okay?"

A strange look passes through Mr. Balik's face then.

A frown that slowly smooths out with something awfully resembling realization in front of Alex's protective stance.

"You are not exactly in a position to dictate orders, Miss Vause." He reminds her as a new, twisted, evil smile tugs at his features, the kind of smile that someone wears when an unexpected opportunity opens. It makes your stomach roll again with a wave of nausea knowing that he probably realized you aren't partners at all, but something much more, something he wasn't intended to know, ever, especially not in these circumstances. Just thinking about how someone like him could exploit this new information makes you sick, but Alex doesn't let him intimidate her.

She is fierce and daring.

She has enough strength and bravery for the both of you right now, and you don't know if you should be glad for it, or maybe... even more afraid.

Bravery and stupidity tend to blur together into something indistinct in dangerous situations after all.

And you have the proof of that when Alex addresses him again.

"It's not like you are going to shoot us in here and risk staining the expensive Persian carpet that you probably bought with money earned from whatever other illicit business you have going on."

You look at her - well, at her back - with shocked wide eyes. _Seriously Alex?_

You barely resist the urge to swat her and hiss her to shut up, deciding just to make her take a step back by gripping the back of her jacket and giving a little tug, grateful when she takes the hint and comes to stand beside you once more.

The last thing she needs to do is further provoke and give advice to a criminal who certainly seems to be more than comfortable about using violence instead of words to persuade.

You can't help but wonder how many of his former clients have probably ended up at gunpoint.

No wonder he is so good in his business.

"You may be right about that," He agrees with a nod, but it's far from reassuring. "Bloodstains are difficult to scrub off. That's why I'm taking you for a ride."

Another icy shiver runs down your back, seeping right into your bones and freezing you from the inside.

That did not sound good.

And what is even scarier is that Alex doesn't seem to have gotten your subtle request to not provoke anymore so exhaustively. Or maybe she has and is just doing it on purpose.

"Really?" Alex asks and you don't think you have imagined the little skeptical scoff that you just heard falling from her lips. "You are going to leave your fancy celebratory after auction party to brings us on a field trip?"

"Something like that." Mr. Balik answers, and then, after giving you a slow, thorough look under which you barely resist the urge to squirm, he turns to say something to his associate in his language, who promptly steps purposefully forward.

You don't even have time to panic, less of all take a defensive step back that Alex is already stepping in front of you again. The urge to reach for her is overwhelming but you merely manage to grip at the hem of her jacket, hissing a "don't" that goes as largely ignored as the hard tug you give to the fabric crumpled in your fist.

"Stay away from her." She snarls right in his face.

And you are not surprised when he simply ignores Alex's warning.

...or when she insists.

Because _of_ course _she does._

"Hey! I told you to-"

And it is then that the butt of the gun slams against the side of her head, with enough force to knock her down on the floor.

"Alex!"

Not even the fear choking you from the inside, or the roots of it holding you in place is enough to stop you from rushing to her, kneeling down beside her.

The first thing that you see when she shifts is the cut on her forehead, splitting her eyebrow and, even if luckily its not deep and just an inch long, the sight of blood, the sight of Alex hurt makes your stomach roll with a combination of sickness and a full burning fury that threatens to bring tears to your eyes.

You swallow them down as you gather Alex in your arms, who groans at the movement, wincing, and then blinking to regain focus when you gently turn her over to have a better look at her, but she recovers pretty quickly considering the disorientation of the blow, already starting to stand on her feet with your help.

"For being a woman, you have quite the stones, Miss Vause. I'll give you that." Mr. Balik compliments, impressed, as Alex growls at him and you are a fingertip away from jumping him, gun or no gun, and punch that sick smile off his smug face.

"But my patience is wearing thin, and I'm afraid that was the last warning. So either you follow me quietly for the ride I promised, or my colleague here is not going to be so gentle with your girlfriend."

"You try to lay a hand on her, _and I swear-"_ Alex growls, swaying dizzily as she tries to take a step forward but gets stopped by the arm you still have secured around her waist, tugging her back.

"What?" Mr. Balik challenges, rounding the desk and, so fast that you barely have time to react at all, he steps in front of you and, with enough force to make you yelp in both surprise and pain, he yanks you by your arm towards him and away from Alex, whose eyes are blazing and whose fists are clenched and trembling with such anger that it scares you way more than Mr. Balik does before he turns you around to face him and his arrogant evil smile, as his intrusive gaze scans you up and down.

"Nice earrings." He compliments reaching up to touch one of the pearls dangling from your ears, and your entire body goes still, not with dread, but with the resistance you have to put to not give in the burning need to punch him or kick him or just hurt him as hard and brutally as you can when he caresses them before taking them off.

 _Alex's earrings..._

The ones that she has gifted you tonight. Back in her apartment. Where you voiced your feelings to each other. Your _love_ for each other.

It all seems like ages ago...

But there is not even space for regret to seep in between everything you are feeling right now.

"I'm going to keep these as a souvenir after this memorable encounter." He smiles, pocketing them in his vest and it takes a lot to not reach out and break his wrist.

After another glance at his colleague who moves to grab Alex and yank her along, he nods towards the door. "Let's go."

 **. . .**

You are lead out of the mansion from somewhere on the back, where there is no one around to call for help, no one's attention to catch at all before you are forced to step inside a car.

The gun remains pointed at you for the entire ride as Mr. Balik drives, and the only favor allowed is when Alex takes off her jacket to give it to you, although, differently from when you first arrived tonight and you were shaking a bit from the slight chill of the evening, the way you tremble right now has nothing to do with the cold but with the storm of emotions raging inside you.

Nonetheless, you accept the jacket and snuggle against her side, holding back the tears, forcing down the panic, trying to do anything to not let that sense of dread and pending doom from surfacing. If these are truly your last moments, then these people aren't going to see you weak. But you clutch Alex's hand in yours as hard as you can, as if the simple gesture could bring you comfort, a sense of safety. For a few moments you do feel some, but then you have to choke back a sob when you feel her brush her thumb across your knuckles in some sort of, _"Don't worry. It's all going to be okay"_ way.

For the first time since you have known Alex, you wonder if she has an escape plan - an alternative escape plan for when things don't turn out like she expected. But even if she used to plan another way out from the museums she used to sneak in, is still one thing; running away from two crazy criminals with a gun is another.

You look up at her with tears swimming in your eyes.

A bruise has already formed on her forehead where the butt of the gun hit her, but the blood has dried leaving a crimson streak down the side of her face and a few drops on the collar of her shirt.

The ride takes an infinity or at least that's what you think until the car comes to a slow halt, and then realize that you where stupidly hoping that it was going to last longer, spend a few more minutes in the limbo that precedes the inevitable.

Time loses sense when you know you are about to die.

And you have been so consumed by all the thousands of thoughts swirling relentlessly in your mind, that you only figure out where you are when you are forced out of the car.

A bridge.

One connecting the road to a small island where there seems to be a factory of sorts, closed of course. There is nothing else around you, it's a small industrial district, and somewhere not so far behind you, there is a dam that makes the river below flow with the force of a torrent.

The city looks so distant on the horizon that it's just like watching thousands of small lights flickering like stars.

"Let her go. It's me the one you want, not her."

It's not the first time that Alex has said that during the ride, and doesn't matter how many times you hissed her to _please shut up,_ she never did, and you doubt she is going to do it now.

"Actually," Mr. Balik argues, taking the gun from his associate who stays back while he gestures you to get over to the railing at the edge of the bridge. "It was Miss Wilder here the one I'm more pissed at. If it wasn't for her getting in my house under false pretenses, you wouldn't be here at all."

You swallow past the lump that gets suddenly stuck in your throat at his words.

He is right, and this time you really can't do anything to prevent the first tear that you have been holding back from falling down your cheek when you turn to meet Alex's gaze.

She might have lied to you, for omission or whatever, but the way you got in this situation is only your fault. If only you listened to her first advice and not been so damn stubborn-

You sigh inwardly.

...it seems utterly pointless now.

"I'm sorry, Al." You tell her sincerely, apologetically, but most of all, _guiltily._

But Alex does the last thing you expect her to do.

She smiles at you.

So soft and earnest that manages to be reassuring even in these circumstances.

"Don't be." She whispers, turning to face you completely, taking your hand in hers and then... _Pressing it against your side?_

You frown.

Feeling something bumpy in the pocket of her jacket.

A similar sensation rings a bell in your memory, bringing you back to... earlier in the library of the mansion.

Your eyes widen in recognition.

 _The impact smoke bombs._

Alex gives you the smallest of nods, flashing you a knowing smile and the next words that she utters are so softly whispered that you struggle to hear them above the noise of the water cascading from the dam, but you do hear her when she touches your cheek to urge you those couple of inches closer.

"Slam them down on the ground as hard as you can, and then duck, run towards the car."

The feeling that swells almost painfully inside your chest is a chance, possibility, _hope,_ relief of the knowledge that Alex has a plan. It floods through your veins with adrenaline, taking away the fear that was still making it hard for you to breathe.

A hidden part of you, one you purposefully didn't want to listen to because afraid of getting your last hopes up, knew that she had something planned.

You don't question her, just smile back through teary eyes, barely resisting the urge to lean in and kiss her.

"It will all be okay," She says, resting her forehead against yours. "I promise."

And you believe her.

"Well, well..." You both startle back to the present when Mr. Balik's voice, coming from several feet away from the railing of the edge of the bridge where you have been forced to stand next to, erupts over the loud noise of the dam. "As much as I hate to interrupt such a lovely moment, I believe we still have business to attend to, rather quickly if you prefer, because as you know I have a party to go back to. So if you have any last words to each other..." He pauses, and when you don't do anything besides glaring at him, he continues.

"No? Nothing? In that case, I just have a few for you, Miss Vause."

Just like that his gaze shifts to Alex, who straightens her back and tilts her chin up, regally, fearless, challenging. She doesn't say anything else except a sharp "what" but the attention seems all Mr. Balik needs to have from her.

With his gaze fixed on her and his other lackey staying far behind and unable to see clearly as he checks the road back connecting to the bridge, you take the chance to discreetly sneak a hand into the jacket pocket, grabbing the two smoke bombs tucked there.

"If there is a thing that I have learned as a gems dealer over the years," He starts, and your heart is pounding so wildly, so hard in your ears, that even if he needs to shout to be heard over the dam, you barely hear him at all.

"Is that if you find something precious and unique," He continues as you, just as slowly, pull your hand, clenched in a fist, out from the pocket.

"You should keep it."

With that, he raises the gun and...

He points it at your chest.

They say that in the moment preceding death, people can see their whole life flash before their eyes.

You don't see any of that.

Time doesn't slow down.

But the Universe tilts a little out of its axis, and in the instant you feel it, you can see all those things that you have left unfinished, the ones you haven't done yet, and all those that you were hoping to do...

 _With Alex._

She is the center of each thought, every wish.

You see a lifetime of _what could be,_ in a heartbeat.

But an instant before the gun goes off, and a blink before you were about to slam the bombs on the ground, you hear Alex's shout, and then... you feel her throwing herself at you.

It's so disorienting coming back from all those small pieces of life that you long to have with her more than you knew you desired, literally tackled by reality, but what snaps you instantly back to present, is that sound.

The awful sound that the bullet makes when it hits Alex.

Time didn't slow down when you were sure you were about to die.

But it seems to go fast forward from the moment you hear that noise.

As sickening and horrible as it is watching her stumble backward at the impact and... fall over the edge of the railing in a blink.

The shout that gets torn from your throat is deft to your ears, even if it burns all the way up from your lungs.

"Alex!"

You get back to your feet without even having realized that she had knocked you on the ground in her attempt to push you away from the trajectory.

But by the time you stumble towards the railing...

You don't watch her fall.

You don't hear her splash into the waters below.

All you can think, all you can hear, all you can feel is how your own heart shatters in a million of pieces that pierce like shards right through your entire being, tearing it to shreds from the inside.

 _No._

During those following moments, everything is still and quiet and so, so horribly wrong.

 _No, no, no, no..._

 _She can't..._ You think, over and over, chocking over sobs and the sudden urge to vomit.

Eyes wide with shock. Body trembling all over with the same anguish tearing you up inside.

It happened so fast and you were _too slow._

She... _can't be._

She just _can't._

You refuse, with every part of you that is left intact, to believe that she is... _gone._

Alex can't be gone like that.

She is...

She is the woman you _love_ with everything you have.

She makes cheesy love poems of every era have sense.

She is the perfectly fitting part that your skeptic, cynical self, doubted wasn't out there for you to find.

And, most importantly, she is _a survivor._

She could still be alive.

The bridge isn't so high, and the water doesn't look to be very deep here, and Alex... she can swim, or, if she is badly injured, get brought to the river bank by the current.

She just needs to stay afloat long enough.

The only thought that takes over in your mind over every other logic is simple even if desperate.

You don't want to think about chances, you don't even consider that the water is probably freezing cold.

All you know is that you need to _find_ her.

You need to jump after her.

You _won't_ give up on her so easily.

And you pray, beg, to whoever is listening that Alex is still alive and okay.

"Such a dramatic exit..."

Your jaw clenches so hard that your teeth might just shatter in your mouth when you hear Balik's mocking sorry voice. You don't even know where you find the strength to get up, shaking for so many reasons, but you do, turning to face him with the hardness of steel held in your gaze.

"Doesn't she know that you are going to follow her regardlessly?" The son of a bitch smiles.

But, at last, that's something he seems to finally get, although not in the same way, you think as you tighten your fist so hard that the bombs there could just explode in your palm from pressure.

"You are right," You sneer at him and his colleague who came to stand a few steps behind him. "But you are not the one sending me there."

This time you slam the bombs on the ground before he can blink the confusion of your words away or even raise his gun again.

The sound that explodes at the impact is like the one of a deafening firecracker.

It echoes all around. And even if you expected the noise, it still disorients you a little, but not enough that you don't manage to duck and run to take cover behind the car before either of those two can understand what happened.

Smoke lifts instantly all around, white and dense like the thickest, most impenetrable fog.

"You bitch!"

You hear the furious scream and the fits of coughing that follows.

"I'm going to find you!"

You know he is, and when you hear him order his lackey around over your ringing ears, you know that you don't have much time to act.

You could try to take one out, get him by surprise, disarm him and then jump off the bridge and after Alex. It's beyond desperate, especially when you realize that you have nothing to use as a weapon except- you look down at your heels.

They'll have to do.

You don't want to take the risk of Balik going after you during your desperate rescue attempt.

With trembling hands you take your shoes off before you can think better of it - you don't have time for doubts - and then, quickly but silently, reach the back of the car, wincing at the icy coldness of the metal beneath your feet.

There is still so much smoke around, but you think you know where he is fumbling in the fog that has lifted all around. He might have a gun, but you have the surprise element on your side, and the silence of your bare feet approach.

You take one last deep breath, gripping the heels in your fists, ready to go.

...but you don't make it out for more than one step in your sprint out from cover that a sudden noise, like the one of something getting hit heavily with what sounds like a metal bar precedes a grunt and the noisy thud of someone falling in the distance.

Before you can frown or even question it, other similar noises get your attention and put you on alert.

 _"What the-"_

You recognize Balik's voice - sounding closer than you expected him to be - but whatever he was going to say, and whatever you were about to do, gets cut off by another slamming sound, a furious scream follows and then another hit followed by a groan before another heavy thud, the same one of someone falling, makes the bridge shake a little under your freezing bare feet.

For a second, silence - except the constant noise of the dam - is all you are met with.

And then...

"Piper?"

Your entire body freezes.

And you are pretty sure that your heart stops as well when it trips over a few beats at the sound of that voice.

It's weak.

Strained.

But strong all at once.

Enough to be heard over the dam.

 _It..._

 _It can't be..._

And yet you find yourself begging, hoping with every part of you that it is.

Against your best struggle with logic, you jump on your feet from your crunched position behind the car, jerking your head in the direction of the fog, squinting your eyes until you can make out a silhouette through the settling white mist.

A figure, a bit slumped over.

A hand clutching a shoulder.

Feet dragging forward, exiting from the dissipating smoke.

And it is only then, that you dare to utter the name.

It's barely a whisper at first.

But when you say it again - believing what you see, as if realizing that it isn't part of the smoke, ready to dissolve in the air with it like a hallucination - you scream it.

Tears falling down your cheeks as your shaky legs move, running, even with the air knocked out of your lungs at the sight.

"Alex!"

She looks like a mirage, so distant, so longed for, and you sprint even faster, with everything you have left in you to reach her, thinking just one thing.

 _Please, please be real._

And _she is._

The smoke around you settles.

But it is only when you take her in your arms, barely noticing the two unconscious bodies of Balik and his associate laying on the ground, or the rusty piece of pipe that falls with a clatter from her grasp, that you allow yourself to fully believe it.

"Ow!" She grunts at the force of the impact your bodies collide together, but remains steady, wrapping her uninjured arm around you nonetheless.

"Missed me already, kid?"

And you know, from that voice, from that unmistakable teasing tone, from the way her arm tightens around you to hold you close, from the smell of her that fills your nostrils - so sure and familiar and _safe_ \- as you sob in the crook of her neck, that you know that it's truly her.

No hallucination.

No product of anguish and pain made real from your mind or desperation to believe she was alive.

 _She is._

The metallic traces of blood and the salty notes of sweat clinging to her skin makes it all more real besides alerting you once more.

And even if you have hoped with every part of your being that she was, the question bounces around your head until it slip past your lips with a mix of utter puzzlement, shock, and gratefulness colliding together when you pull back, cupping her cheeks, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time in ages.

"How?"

It's the only word that falls from your lips like a cracked whisper as you take her in. Dry hair, dry clothes, except for that patch near her shoulder.

"These bridges," She starts to explain, struggling to regain breathing as if she has just run a marathon. "They are old but pretty sturdy, reinforced with a frame of metal bars and steel beams underneath."

Put two and two together comes surprisingly easy and fast considering you are still trying to wrap your mind around what just happened in the last two minutes, and how she is here. And yet, somehow, under all that chaos, under all that storm of feelings and thoughts, beneath the overload of emotions and overwhelming relief that floods through your veins, a thought manages to push through.

A memory.

The one of when you met Alex the second time, and she almost made you jump out of your skin when she dropped on the alley where you were waiting for her, after free climbing down a building.

"Are you saying that when you fell you managed to get a hold on an exposed beam and then climbed your way across the bridge from below?" The disbelief shouldn't be in your voice at all when you summarize that, if only it wasn't for the fact that...

"But Alex you are hurt! Your-" The only wet spot on her clothes is indeed the blood seeping out from her shoulder, staining the gray of her vest into black, and painting the upper sleeve of her white shirt of a bright crimson that has its effect in snapping you back in action right away.

In your haste to take off your - her - jacket, you almost tear it off before pressing it hard right there, against that tender spot between her chest and shoulder, a couple of inches below her clavicle as you help her sit down.

"It's just a scratch," She reassures even though she hisses, gritting her teeth in pain when you apply more pressure.

Thankfully, the bullet doesn't seem to have hit anything vital, and when you look at her back you see an exit wound in an equally not-dangerous although definitely painful place near her shoulderblade, but...

 _A scratch my ass,_ you grumble inwardly.

 _How the hell did she manage to climb in these conditions?_

"It made climbing a bit more challenging, though." Is her humble admission. But then her eyes soften when she meets your gaze, so clear and tender that it halts your movements for a second.

"But... I made you a promise, didn't I?"

She even dares to smirk, the idiot, even if faintly, but exertion and blood loss can do that.

Stubborn heroic thief with a heart of gold...

You are going to kill her.

"You dumb hero. I thought we were sticking to the plan." You scold her, and it's incredible how anger can still find a way to seep right through the relief filling your chest.

"The plan didn't involve you getting shot before you could act on it." She has the audacity to reply much to your indignation.

"But it involved you getting shot in the process?!" You almost shout, then sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation, but really you are still reveling in joy and relief. "Never mind. Just let's get you out of here."

That's your priority now.

There is still so much you want to scold her for, but first, you need to call for help and make sure she is safe before you strangle her.

You need a phone, or you could just get to the car and drive back to the city, but you don't even know where you are.

Calling an ambulance might be the best course of action, and are about to reach for Balik's unconscious associate body nearby and search him for a phone when Alex speaks.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about the gem, Piper..." The words come out a bit slurred and when you look back at her her eyes are half-lidded, drowsy, but she still manages to covey the apology and hurt that her lie has caused.

"I know sweetie," You tell her. After how much more serious things have turned out you have already forgiven her. "It's okay. Just stay awake, okay? I'm getting you out of he-"

 _"Not so fast, I'm afraid."_

Your head whips around at the sound of that accented voice. Eyes wide as dread fills you up once more when you see Balik stumbling back to his feet with the gun still in his grasp.

There is a deep gash on the side of his head left by where Alex hit him with that rusty pipe.

 _The pipe._

It's right there next to Alex. And he doesn't seem to have noticed it.

Discretely, taking advantage of his struggle to regain balance, you reach for it.

"I guess you should have hit me harder." He says glancing down at Alex, smiling that wicked, satisfied smile of his when he sees her hurt.

Blood boils with fury in your veins.

You grip the pipe, so tightly in your grasp that your hand shakes.

"I guess you should have taken a better shot." Alex sasses back through gritted teeth.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna miss this time." He assures.

Alex protected you earlier.

She kept you safe and got hurt, almost killed, because of it. Now it's your turn.

You aren't afraid of him.

Or of the gun he raises once more to you.

And it is with nothing but all the strength in your body and absolute certainty that you swing your arm, as hard as you can and hit him right on the knee with the pipe.

He screams, kneeling in pain, and you take advantage of the position to hit him again, square in the jaw, sending him falling backward, the gun on the ground, but he is still conscious and tries to reach for it.

You try to get there in time but he is much closer and ends up grasping it.

"Stupid move bitch." He spits as he stands once more. "Now I won't give you the privilege of a quick death."

During the commotion of those short seconds, you didn't hear anything but the pump of adrenaline in your system.

And the fear that rises again in your throat and thrums in your ears with the frantic beats of your heart doesn't make you hear the sound the cars that come to a stop several paces behind you, or the sound that the doors do when get opened in a hurry, but you sure hear when and a voice, a voice you recognize, shouts over the dam.

"Kubra Balik! Drop the gun and get down on the ground!"

You both turn and there, just behind you, just when you thought you were done for sure, when you thought no one was coming for you, and that you were about to die with the knowledge that you didn't do anything you could to protect Alex like she has done for you... You see her.

Agent... _uh,_ officer?

Well, _Nicole._

Among another half dozen of police officers.

All taking cover behind the car doors, with their guns pointed to Balik.

The sirens of the police cars are silent but flashing red and blue all over the bridge.

You have never been more glad about taking a choice in your life; to not hesitating too much about calling her before leaving Alex's apartment just in case things didn't go well.

Not that you ever expected something so... crucial.

She shouts once more the warning, taking a step out of cover with a few other agents, but apparently, after a long stretched second of stillness during which you enjoy the actual panic show on his face, he decides to do the whole villain _"you'll never get me alive"_ cliche thing.

It ends as expected - and as hoped - for you. He raises the gun towards the agents, but doesn't even get to pull the trigger.

Two bullets get fired right to his chest just as you duck and crouch protectively and instinctively over a semi-conscious Alex.

When he falls on the ground, this time, he stays down.

Still.

 _It's over._

The realization barely manages to sink into you before you hear steps approaching, fast, a couple of agents, guns pointed to Balik's still body, kicking the gun away from his hand, radios crackling, a commotion of sounds and orders being shout around over the noise of the dam that makes the world around you start running once more to its usual speed, but way too fast for you considering how the last few minutes went down so slowly.

But then, before you can get overwhelmed by all that happened, by what is happening, Nicole gets there to you.

"Hey blondie," She greets you with a little smile. "I brought the cavalry. Did I miss all the fun already?"

You don't get the chance to say a word, mouth opening and closing like a fish for all the question that are wrestling with one another in your mind for priority.

Alex however, she surprises you when in her half-conscious state stirs at the sound of Nicole's voice and after blinking a few times to regain focus, she frowns, puzzled, looking up at her through drowsy half-lidded green eyes.

 _"Nichols?"_

And then, much to your already swelling confusion, Nicole's smile actually brightens.

"Hey there Vause. Still getting in trouble I see."

"You bet." Alex's smirk is weak but unmistakable, even before it quickly shapes into a grimace as she releases a groan of protest when Nicole moves the jacket that you have pressed on her shoulder to slow down the bleeding, checking for the wound.

The interaction is so unexpected and so odd to witness that it takes you a moment to put the pieces together and realize what just happened.

"Wait. You _know_ each other?" You ask, wide-eyed and startled by such a random possibility.

Nicole nods, then dispatches the rest of the officers around, have someone handcuff Balik's still unconscious lackey before she says something about school, old buddies and general younger mayhem stuff, but you don't catch much of it, and everything else falls to background noise against the way your heart suddenly speeds up with panic when you see Alex's eyes fluttering shut a split second before her head lolls on the side.

"Alex... _Alex!"_ You shake her uninjured arm and she stirs, groaning a little.

It is Nicole who pulls you away just a second later.

"Easy there, kid. It's okay. She is alive, just passed out a bit. An ambulance is just a minute away, don't worry."

Even from behind all the panic that fills your chest, chilling you from the inside despite the reassurance you still keep your hand wrapped gently around Alex's as you frown at Nicole in confusion.

"How did you get here? How did you know where we were? And how did you know we _needed_ an ambulance?"

She answers to each question in order even if briefly as - just like you - she keeps checking on Alex conditions and injury.

"I told you that my boys and I were keeping him under surveillance, or in this case just watched the GPS tracker on his car and phone. When I didn't see you get out from his office earlier at the mansion and saw that his car was moving I put two and two together. It couldn't be anything good. Thanks for tonight's tip, by the way, it was a nice party, until you got into trouble." She adds sounding genuinely grateful under the teasing note in her voice. "Oh, and I called the paramedics ahead, even before the gunfire locator reported us a shot. And I'm glad I did."

You are, too. _Immensely so._

But there are so many information and all at once, that you struggle to archive them all so fast, but one registers above all the others with more urgency.

"Wait. So you were there? Tonight? At the mansion? You saw us?"

It is only when you give her a more accurate look and notice her clothes, a _caterer uniform,_ that things start to make sense as you remember about earlier, that flash of a familiar face, that reddish hair, that you thought you saw in the crowd among guests and catering staff.

She just shrugs in front of the realization shaping your features and smirks once more.

"Undercover, remember?"

Whatever other questions you wanted to ask her, are pushed far away from your mind in the moment you see the ambulance arrive.

Nicole urgently waves it over and you hate that once the paramedics get out, you have to pull away from Alex so they can lift her up on the gurney.

"I'm going to be at the hospital as soon as I can. In the meantime, I'm sending you a patrol car and two uniforms to keep watch and get your statement."

After all that happened you don't even protest about receiving protection.

"And don't worry kid, she is going to be okay." Those are her parting words beside the sincere reassuring smile that she gives you when you jump in the ambulance with Alex, sitting quietly in a corner as the paramedics work on her.

You take comfort in those reassuring words and smile, and in the confirm that the paramedics give you as the ambulance speeds away, but most of all, the comfort seeps in and spreads inside you when you see Alex's chest lifting with steadying breathing and feel the pulse thrumming under your fingertips when you take her hand in yours.

* * *

 **I scared you, didn't I? :P Anyway, I had most of this chapter already done but I still took a little longer to iron out a few kinks, because I don't like to post and give you something I'm not completely satisfied with, and I had this scene in mind I wanted to go down in a certain way :) Anyway, here it is guys, some Vauseman protectiveness, teaming-up, action, and general badassery... Well, kind of :D Also, same quick reminder for you guys to please not mention spoilers about the fifth season, thank you :) I appreciate your being careful about it since I'm taking my sweet time with it, and with other shows too, lol :D**


	15. Chapter 15

Hi everyone!

Happy holidays! We are almost there guys, just another chapter left after this one. It came out a bit longer than what I expected, but here it is :)

Enjoy

* * *

You have never liked staying with nothing to do.

It's not who you are.

That's not who you have _ever_ been.

But now...

Well... now there is not much your restless self can do except wait.

Because Alex is still in surgery, after what seems to be hours into an eternity, and waiting is simply driving you insane.

After you have given your statement to the two kind police officers, appreciating at least the distraction but at the same time hating that you still can't do anything more useful, every passing minute ticks by slower than the previous one, and there is only a certain amount of cups of tea you can drink before that too starts working the opposite effect.

And there is only a certain amount of pacing you can do before one of the nurses with a polite encouraging smile tells you to please sit down and relax because everything is going to be okay.

Relax is not even a graspable concept right now. All your muscles are tense, your nerves twitching, your skin crawling with perpetual goosebumps, your stomach clenched tight into a knot and your heart... Your heart is beating so alarmingly fast and hard that you are afraid it might crack a few of your ribs, or even just leap right out of your chest. But you guess that must still be the rush of adrenaline still flowing through your system.

So you take a seat on one of the plastic chairs just outside the hallway leading to the operating rooms and impatiently tap your foot, now clad in a pair of socks and hospital slippers that one of the nurses has been so kind to provide for you - because your heels are probably still who knows where on that bridge - along with some scrubs, because the front of your evening dress was apparently stained with Alex's blood, and you didn't even realize that until you have seen your own reflection in the hospital restroom.

So now here you are, bouncing your leg up and down, twisting the hem of the blue scrub shirt in your hands and feeling time pass by much more slowly than how its supposed to. Testing your patience beyond it's already thin, strained limit.

It's pretty much like this how Nicole finds you not even ten minutes into the second eternal hour of Alex's surgery, and you don't think you have ever been more glad for company in your entire life.

At first, you almost jump out of your skin when you feel the quiet tap on your shoulder. Torn away so suddenly from the dull haze you had fallen into that your head spins when you turn around with a start, but deflate in relief when you see that it's just her.

"I believe these are yours, blondie." She holds up an evidence bag containing your ankle strap heels and hands them over to you, smiling softly, warm and friendly and a bit apologetic for having startled you.

You offer her a weak twitch of a smile in return and a "thank you" before scooting over to offer her a seat.

"No news yet?" She asks, sitting beside you with a long tired exhale.

You shake your head with a weak no, and she must notice how much effort you are trying to put to not let your voice crack and keep the tears at bay, because the next thing you feel, is her hand pressing gently down on your restless leg, stilling its unconscious nervous bouncing before prying one of your hands from where you have been fidgeting with the hem of the scrub shirt.

It should make you annoyed.

You barely know her, she saved yours and Alex's life of course but still...

And yet, there is something... so oddly comforting in her touch, in the calm reflected into those soft, dark brown eyes and in her steady voice when she speaks.

"You don't have to worry. The injury wasn't so bad, and Alex... she is a tough girl."

It's the way she smiles - with no trace of doubt but only absolute certainty - what inflates your chest with a much-needed surge of hope and relief, allowing you to take a deep breath through your nose.

She is right.

Alex is a tough girl.

You know that.

And in a small part of your mind, the one that isn't still running with rampant worrying thoughts, you still wonder how Nicole knows that about her.

"How do you and Alex know each other exactly?"

The question is out before you can think twice about it, maybe triggered by some sort of distraction mechanism.

You know that she's already hinted something earlier on the bridge but you were only half listening, too worried checking on a half-conscious Alex to pay much attention.

Nicole, however, doesn't seem to mind repeating the story, more extensively this time, smiling quite a bit fondly at the memories.

She tells you how they met, in school, about all the troubles, innocent ones - mostly - in which they usually got into and for how simple, just listening to those pleasant memories is enough to lift some of the weight of anxiety that has settled on your chest, crushing it, during the past couple of hours, and make you smile, even laugh at a few of their shenanigans and anecdotes.

"...we lost contact a few years after graduation, just slipped away from each other when she started traveling all over the world, after her mother... You know. And I... well, I was falling into a bad crowd but managed to get out of it before it was too late. Straightened up - so to speak -" She winks and you chuckle at the innuendo. "-and started doing something I never ever imagined, not even in a million years, I would end up doing, but turns out is sort of gratifying and I'm kinda good at it, too. Also, girls love a woman in uniform. Out of it, too." She smirks and you are in mid-laugh when the whole mention of the uniform makes you realize something...

"You know, you never told me for which agency you work." _Or properly introduced yourself_ you think, remembering the circumstances of your first encounter in the subway, but she takes the hint without you having to ask anything further.

"Oh my, where are my manners," She jokes before extending her hand. "Agent Nicole - Nicky - Nichols. ATF, at your service."

"Piper Chapman. Unemployed wanna be-journalist. Nice to formally meet you Nicole - Nicky - Nichols," You tease her taking her hand for a gently firm shake.

"And... thank you for coming to our rescue." You tell her sincerely, with so much gratitude that even with the effort your throat still closes up a bit.

"Well, actually I think it was all you, you know? If you hadn't called ahead..."

It's all it takes for the anxiety to come back with a vengeance, tightening your chest, filling your mind once more with all the "what ifs" that would have lead to possibilities you really don't want to think about.

And luckily, you don't have to. Because in the instant Nicole realizes the line of thoughts that she has inadvertently triggered, she does her best to steer you away from it and distract you again.

"So, I believe I explained very extensively how I know Alex, but you never told me how you two met. Although..." She pauses and there is no mistaking the obvious knowing look that flashes across her face with a dash of intrigue. "I'm not going to ask what's your deal with her. If the way I've seen you looking at each other at the mansion wasn't enough of a tell, what I saw on that bridge... Well..."

When Nicky's voice trails off and her smile grows into a full grin, you don't have to wonder if it is because she has noticed the sudden flare of a blush warming up your cheeks.

You open and close your mouth repeatedly, stuttering for an answer, and you are just about to deliver one when you get suddenly distracted by the sound that the automatic doors leading to the hallway of the operating theater make when they slide open and a surgeon in scrubs, the same one you saw earlier during all the commotion of your arrival, walks out.

You are on your feet - shaky legs and weak knees and all - along with Nicky before he can even set eyes on you.

The tension that you felt rising swelling inside your chest, threatening to choke you from the inside, is gone in the instant you see him smile reassuringly.

"Miss Vause is going to be all right."

There.

The words, the statement that you have been silently begging to hear.

For the first time in more than two hours, your chest seems to finally expand to its full extent, as if the invisible vise that you felt tightened there has finally been released to allow you to breathe properly.

"We just finished up." The surgeon continues, informing you of the details. "It took more time than what we initially thought, but there was a tear in one of her ligaments and we had to repair it before it could become more serious."

You frown at that and even the surgeon looks just as perplexed.

"The bullet luckily went through and through, it didn't hit anything vital, and it wasn't that what left that sort of damage. It seems very recent though."

You don't even have to think too hard about it.

Because oh... you do know _exactly_ what did that kind of damage.

The _idiot_ climbed her way across a damn bridge. Injured. _Of course_ she has pulled something while she was playing the hero - and succeed both in saving you and getting even more hurt in her attempt at doing so.

You are _so_ going to strangle her as soon as-

"Can we see her?"

Nicky steals the question right out of your mouth an instant before you can ask it yourself.

The surgeon smiles again. "Of course, but just for a few minutes. She is still under anesthesia and she needs to rest."

 **. . .**

Okay...

So _maybe_ the need to scold her, and rant to her, yell at her how _stupid_ doing what she did was once you walk into her room, after having thoroughly cleaned your hands with disinfectant along with Nicky, and see her laying in that bed, looking so small and hurt, with her arm tucked tightly against her side, bent over her stomach, shoulder wrapped by layers above layers of bandages and held in place by a supportive sling... Well, the need to yell at her is suddenly the furthest thought from your mind.

You watch her, not even daring to breathe until you see her do the same, see her chest lif and fall quietly, steadily, from where she is, dressed in a blue, thin hospital gown, tucked in sterile white sheets that make her look so pale, not alarmingly like you have noticed in the ambulance under the lights, but still very pale.

As you approach the bed however, and take a better look at her, you notice the softest tinge of pink blushing ever so slightly on her cheeks.

The cut on her forehead, splitting ever so slightly her eyebrow has been taken care of as well, just a couple of butterfly stitches.

 _She is safe,_ you think, letting this reassuring reality sink in and take away the rest of the anguish that has been clinging into you since you have seen her getting shot and stumbling backward to fall over the railing of that bridge.

You suck in a shuddering breath.

 _She is okay._

But despite knowing that, despite having the literally breathing confirm right in front of you, your eyes sting with unshed tears, and your bottom lip wobbles a little before you trap it between your teeth.

You are barely aware of how Nicky stays back on the doorway, just barely inside the room, as if afraid that stepping further in would interrupt this delicate moment of reassurance that she knows you most definitely needed.

You however, come to a stop just at the side of Alex's bed, as close to her as possible, reaching out to take her uninjured hand in yours, unable to resist the need to feel the warmth of her skin and the thrum of her heart pulse under your fingertips while you caress her knuckles with the pad of your thumb, almost jumping out of your skin when you feel that same hand give the slightest squeeze back. Fingers just twitching, closing briefly around yours before releasing just as quickly.

Maybe it's the movement, your touch, even if so, so delicate and careful, that triggered that weak reaction, but when your gaze snaps automatically up to her face, you actually realize that she is coming out from her sedation.

You watch her stir, hear her groan a little, notice the grimace that tugs at her features ever so slightly before green eyes start to flutter open.

"Alex?" You barely whisper it, so softly that you can even distantly hear Nicky take a couple of quiet, tentative steps further into the room.

Alex stirs some more and then she blinks, squinting, getting accustomed to the lights, but even if you are watching the scene with bated breath, you are secretly delighted that when she gains focus, those green gems lands immediately on your familiar figure and that when her lips part it is your name the first thing that falls from them in a quiet, raspy murmur.

"Piper..."

Suddenly, you think you could choke from the tears of joy that have risen up your throat and welled into your eyes, unable to do anything except willingly surrender to the grin that spreads all over your face, so bright and full that it hurts.

"Hey sweetie."

She blinks some more, eyeing you up and down, looking still a bit drowsy, and kind of puzzled by your new attire, but mostly scanning you over as if in search for-

"You okay?"

 _Seriously?_

Your first instinct upon hearing that question is to groan in exasperation. Or smack her.

Because of course not only she is the kind of woman that turns out to be incredibly aware and remember everything that happened even upon coming out from anesthesia, but mostly...

 _Is she for real?_

 _She_ is the one laying on a hospital bed with her arm tucked into a sling after all, and still she is the one asking you that question.

You are about to answer when her gaze shifts, catching some movement near the doorway, frowning and squinting further when her vision adjusts - or tries to without her glasses on - on Nicky.

"Either that bastard hit me harder than I thought, or they must have given me some premium quality stuff, because I swear I can still see my high school buddy."

You can't help but laugh through your tears at hearing that.

Because even if seeing Alex injured is still breaking your heart a piece at the time, witnessing the usually confident, annoyingly hyperaware woman under the influence of some heavy anesthetic is kind of an adorable dorky sight that repairs some of the damage left by the knowledge that she is hurt.

"She's not a hallucination Al," You reassure her with an adoring smile before turning to Nicky who has finally realized that the wall is going to stay there upright even without her having to lean against it.

"The lady's right, Vause. I'm actually here," She confirms, and you watch with some guilty amusement as Alex's expression turns from one of utter confusion and surprise, to realization once her old friend comes fully into view, reaching her other side of the bed.

"Good to see you, buddy." Nicky greets her, smile growing into a grin in front of a still incredulous, drowsy Alex. "Although," She adds a heartbeat later in afterthought, reaching out to pat her leg. "I hoped it was under better circumstances."

And if the sight of a confused Alex amused you, the way her still half asleep mind struggles to archive that information is even more endearing.

"How...?" It's all that she manages to ask at last, giving up any attempt at logic, but it's more than enough.

"Don't worry about that, Alex. We'll explain everything in the morning." Nicky dismisses lightly with a wink. "Now go ahead and rest, and try not to drive the nurses nuts, ya hear me?"

The sleepy smirk that slowly shapes Alex's features at her friend's playful warning melts you from the inside.

"Not making promises." She says to her before turning to look at you, a little more serious but softer, she seems like she wants to tell you something, but before she can, you chide in.

"I'm going to be here when you wake up." You promise her, smiling reassuringly, and while the need to lean down and kiss her is almost overwhelming when her eyes flick down to your lips, lingering with longing before meeting your gaze again and nodding, you just stroke her knuckles once more before bringing her hand up to your lips for a kiss.

When you pull back, her eyes are already starting to flutter shut and there is the faint curl of a smile twitching at her lips as her breathing evens out again.

"So, I have this feeling that even if I assured you that the two uniforms I sent over and left posted here are going to guard Alex like the Queen of England during her afternoon nap, you are still going to stay the night and make sure she is safe for yourself, are you?"

The guiltily smile that twitches under the soft blush that tinges your cheeks at that bold assumption is answer enough.

If there is one thing that you have guessed about Nicky in the little time you spent in her presence, is that she is quite an observant person.

You like her.

She really seems to understand the need that you feel about staying close to Alex after all that happened, and doesn't insist on driving you home after her first thoughtful offer.

"Thank you. But you are right, I'm going to stay here for the night or... maybe I should say the rest of it until it all blends into morning." You joke after taking a look at the clock on top of the nursing station and seeing how late it is. You wouldn't be able to sleep even if you tried anyway.

Nicky shrugs. "Suit yourself kid. But just so you know, I might need to come here tomorrow morning to take Alex's statement. And, you know... if during those couple of hours you so happen to want to go home and change, take a shower or whatever..." She trails off to the obvious conclusion of that other more appealing offer. The nonchalance with which she says it makes you smile and feel a surge of affection for the petite, friendly woman who happens to have saved your life and the one of your lover and - for how absurd it still is for you to believe in such coincidences - the one of her old friend, too.

"Thank you." You say at last, and you mean it in general, but you would like to have something more than just those simple words to offer her. For how sincere and heartfelt they are, they still don't seem to be even close to enough.

"I don't know what you mean." Nicky, however, still pretends to play innocent, but that illusion is taken away when she winks at you. "Just getting back here to get a statement, boring papers stuff, and all that mess..."

You grimace a little at the mention of the bureaucracy and procedures that make you think once more about the whole case she was working on.

"I guess we kinda messed up your investigation on him, whatever it was, did we?"

She lets out a long sigh, runs a hand through her long, slightly less messy hair from what you remembered during your first encounter.

"Actually, the guy we have in custody - the one you two knocked out I take it," She guesses with a little impressed, sort of proud lopsided grin. "- And the other three associates that were left back at the mansion and brought in for interrogation, haven't stopped talking ever since. Such great use of the Miranda rights, uh? Idiots." She mumbles under her breath with a scoff. "But no, Piper. You didn't mess up any case he was involved in. And just for the record, I would take saving two innocents and killing a sociopath son of a bitch obsessed with power and some twisted sense of honor any day, even if the information that his associates are spill right now in exchange for a lighter sentence now that their boss is dead, are worth nothing."

"Still," You insist, unable to not feel so oddly guilty considering the circumstances and the position you feel like you put her into. "Taking him alive would have probably gotten you more."

But Nicky surprises you once more.

"I'm glad one of my guys shot him, actually. I read some of the statement you left with one of the officers, and I can imagine the rest of all that went down and lead to him bringing you there on that bridge. And I can tell you that if he would have surrendered, his lawyers would have found a way to get him out eventually, even with the new charges against him. And if that was the case, he would have come back to you with everything he had at his disposal. The guy is- _was_ obsessed with revenge. Or so the rumors said."

Your entire body stiffens and your blood runs cold like it did hours ago when you have been held at gunpoint.

"Y-you mean...?"

There is no mistaking the seriousness of the look that she gives you. And the obvious implication still has frozen in place even if that dreadful outcome it's no longer a possibility. Thanks to her intervention.

You swallow, hard, deciding to divert the conversation to some more useful information and something that won't make you think about what would have happened if you had someone like Balik hunting you down, had he not been shot.

"So, why were you guys poking around him anyway?"

"Mostly for smuggling things, firearms and such," Nicky explains, as you accompany her across the hallway towards the exit of the hospital. "But that's only my squad's work. He was also being investigated by the FBI for a few disappearances and other stuff... They didn't have enough evidence for a warrant though, but you made me hit the jackpot tonight. After what went down on that bridge, the rest of my men undercover at the mansion got into his basement and found crates of semi-automatic weapons among other interesting and quite illegal things..."

 **. . .**

Explaining all of that to Alex the next day takes much longer.

Mostly because she doesn't seem to be able to stop laughing once she learns that Nicky is an ATF agent.

"Are you kidding me?"

Nicky is kind of amused herself actually as if she expected nothing else but this same reaction from her friend.

And you... Well, even if you have discovered a new level of tiredness, feeling sore and impossibly stiff for having napped curled up on the chair outside Alex's room, just seeing her awake, up and about, recovering, with a much more healthy color already tinging her cheeks... It's really all you can ask for after the way she scared you last night. And seeing her smile and hearing her laugh only swells your chest with gratefulness and an overwhelming surge of affection.

"So you get to keep some of the contraband stuff on the side?" Now it's Alex the one who is openly joking or... actually, the look into those mischievous eyes sometimes it's kind of hard to decipher if she is being serious or not.

Nicky, however, seems to be willing to indulge her. "Well, we had a bust a couple of years back into an illegal distillery and found they were trying to replicate the recipe of this top-shelf tequila. It was a shame, really. All that booze wasted. Prohibition days style. It tasted like an orgasm dipped in honey." She sighs longingly, eyes fluttering shut at the memory.

Alex bursts out laughing again and then grimaces when the bouncing of the movement hurts her injured shoulder.

"Careful there, grandma." Nicky teases earning a glare and a dangerous growl from Alex when she helps you fix the cushions behind her back before leaning her gently against them.

"What?" The petite woman defends against that narrowed look. "It's not like you can go climbing under bridges to save some damsel in distress-" This time it's your turn to look offended and gasp when Nicky says that, flashing you a smirk. "This one seems to be able to take care of herself."

You might disagree with that. What went down on that bridge was mostly improvisation and luck, but you still accept the half of that compliment with a shy smile.

Once Nicky finishes getting Alex's own statement, she slips out for work, because Balik might be gone, but he left a mess to clean up after him.

"You should go, too, Piper," Alex suggests after Nicky leaves. "Get home, get some rest, eat something and do your things."

It must be quite visible how tired and worn out you are. And you might have been just about telling her that was your exact intention as well, feeling more confident now about leaving Alex here, knowing that everyone in Balik's circle is locked up and the two officers still left posted outside Alex's door are going to guard her just as a precaution for the night.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to do that," You inform her, failing to suppress a yawn that has her chuckle affectionately when you hastily cover your mouth.

But even if you know that she is safe and that she is under the best cares possible, you can't help but ask her,

"You are going to be okay?"

She smiles, her lips taking that soft curl of endearment in front of the slight hesitation you still show about leaving her side.

But then Alex reaches out with her uninjured arm, taking your hand in hers and squeezing reassuringly. "I promise." She says, and you trust her.

You look at her, feeling a new wave of relief flood through your veins like a drug that allows you to breathe more easily with each sip of air you take in and yet, you can't help but think about how close you came to all this not being so okay.

"You really scared me, you know?" It seems utterly unnecessary stating that. But saying those words out loud instead of having them just floating silently between you two, actually helps to release some of the tension that was still pressing hard down your chest.

Even if there is no accusation in your voice, Alex still looks away for an instant, somehow guiltily before tentatively meeting your gaze again, answering what you were afraid - but also kind of expecting, to hear from her.

"I would still do it."

"Alex-"

"Here." She interrupts softly, bringing your joined hands to her chest, pressing yours right against her heartbeat.

Strong.

Steady.

You almost sob.

"I'm okay." Alex smiles. "In the end, you are the one who saved us both."

You nod, then swallow down the lump that is starting to form in your throat before it can rise under the form of tears. "So... You are not mad I called Nicky ahead before we went to the mansion last night?"

"Considering how this turned out, I would most definitely say that I'm immensely grateful you did." She chuckles and you do too, laughing off the rest of the traces of the anguish that have been clinging to you for what seems an eternity.

"You have a good instinct, kid." Alex comments, earnest and... proud.

You must have it.

Since it's that same one that first led you to her. Well... Kind of.

She invites you to stay at her place if you want to. She even tells you where she keeps hidden a spare set of keys and gives you the alarm code. And while you decline her kind offer at first, when you are on your way home from the hospital, you change your mind, deciding to take some of your things from your apartment before heading out again and walking the familiar path to Alex's penthouse.

Being there it's comforting in a way you didn't know you needed to feel. Her presence is everywhere and it seeps right into you, soothing and reassuring.

You shower and then lay down on her bed.

With the lingering scent of her on the sheets, it's surprisingly easy getting lulled into a deep peaceful sleep, the kind of sleep that you didn't know you needed so much until you wake up, hours later, so blissfully rested.

You search Alex's closet for a duffle bag or something like it, and once you find one, you grab a few things. Toiletries mostly. Some clothes and underwear, a spare pair of glasses you find in the desk drawer of her study, and... once you walk out onto the balcony, you simply can't resist the temptation to pick a few of the roses there, after watering them.

Getting stung more than once in your inexpert attempt to pick a couple is worth a thousand times to see the grin spreading across Alex's face when you walk in her room the next day with a tiny vase you have also somewhere in her cabinets.

"I thought they would cheer you up a little." You simply tell her attempting for nonchalant but the way your cheeks heat up gives you away.

She thanks you for the thoughtfulness and the trouble of the clothes and toiletries you brought her, and visibly lits up when you hand her over a few of the books she had begun reading a week or so ago, along with her glasses.

Just like you, even she isn't the type who likes to stay with nothing to do.

You spend the morning there with her.

Alex reading, you checking emails on your laptop.

And somewhere, in the back of your mind, you can't help but think about how oddly comforting and domestic and just nice and so absolutely right it feels being in each other company, even like this, in such an enjoyable comfortable silence in which you might occasionally steal glances at each other.

 **. . .**

"...So Piper seems a really great young woman."

You know that you shouldn't eavesdrop. It's not polite. Something like invasion of privacy or whatever rings distantly in your mind, stirring something akin to guilt in your stomach, but when a few days later you catch the conversation just outside Alex's room between her and Nicky before you can walk in for your daily morning check up on your lover, you are left utterly unable to do anything but flatten a bit against the hallway wall and listen curiously. Telling yourself that it can't possibly be real privacy invasion if the conversation going on inside is about you. But it's an excuse that wouldn't fool anyone.

"She really is..." You hear Alex's sighs, somehow dreamily, and suddenly, the guilt in your belly is taken away by the swirl of butterflies erupting there.

"...Smart, like scary smart. And stubborn, too. You know, the kind that-"

"- the kind of smart-stubborn that has a tendency to find trouble? Yeah, I know a couple of those. Dangerous mix. But she seems quite special. She must be, given how smitten you are."

"Hey!"

You choke down a laugh at Alex's indignation.

"Just saying what I see, Vause." Nicky defends with a chuckle.

"Yeah well, she is... different." Even if you can't see the look on Alex's face as she says that, you can picture the soft smile that you can hear in her voice. It makes your heart flutter and tugs a tender, loving smile on your lips as well.

A short moment of silence follows, and then...

"You took a bullet for her."

"I wasn't going to let that bastard hurt her."

"I know. There's always been that protective vibe coming off you."

You can practically hear Alex's shrug before she answers. "You would have done the same for the woman you love."

With that and the emotion filling your chest and pricking at your eyes in hearing once more Alex confess her love for you and what she did in the name of it, you pull away from the wall and take a seat on one of the chairs a far distance from the door, deciding to give them some time and real privacy when you hear the conversation steering towards old memories and simply catching up on the years they haven't been able to see each other for one reason or another.

You pull out your laptop for your bag and start working on one of the occasional freelance reporting that has been emailed to you last night.

Nicky finds you just like that sometime later, and you have been so absorbed in a research for your piece that you didn't even hear Alex's door getting opened at all.

"There you are, blondie."

You jump a little on your seat at the sound of her voice, turning with a start but smiling at her, even bigger when you take in her appearance.

It's the first thing that you notice about her today. Her attire. She looks more like a lawyer than an agent, a nice blazer, shirt, and skirt, and a work bag slung over her shoulder.

Your smile stretches into a slow grin. "You look nice."

Nicky smirks at the compliment straightening up a bit, and the gesture reminds you instantly a little of Alex.

They must have spent quite some time together when they were younger. Enough to leave some kind of behavioral mark on each other.

"Thanks. Headed for court." She informs, adjusting the collar of her shirt. "Must be presentable for the judge."

"You in trouble?" You ask frowning in concern.

"For once it's quite the opposite."

You don't get the chance to ask her anything further that she comes closer, head tilted to the side as she looks at your laptop screen and your work in progress.

You wave it off. "One of the occasional assignments I get. I managed to get a few days from the restaurant I work after all that went down, but I definitely needed to do something and keep busy."

Nicky purses her lips, thoughtful, and then pulls over her front the bag hanging from her shoulder, opening it.

"I'm not saying that I was hoping to hear that, but I'm pleased you told me."

It's cryptic to say the least, especially when she doesn't add anything else but just pulls out a folder and wordlessly hands it to you.

"What's this?"

"Everything I have on the Balik case, except the part about the other night's events. Since it involves you it wouldn't be very professional writing an article about it, would it?" She winks and it takes you a moment to understand what she actually just offered to you.

"You... You want _me_ to write an article about... _your case?"_

She shrugs. "Why not?"

"But... I mean, don't you already have someone in the press that usually takes care of this. You know, someone who has much more experience in handling a crime news section and that could get it to the public with a more expert tone?" You sputter, mind still running a mile a minute to catch up.

"I do," Nicky admits, nodding, seeming quite amused actually by your sudden display of nervousness and undeniable excitement that has mingled at such an opportunity.

"An annoying pretentios journalist with an ego that wouldn't fit in this hallway. But you... I have the feeling you would get the right insight on this."

You look at her with wide eyes, mouth hanging open until the sound of her chuckle snaps you back into yourself.

"What makes you so sure about that?"

Another smirk twitches at her lips.

"Your... intervention helped me a great deal in this case, is even closing a few others that the NYPD had opened and thought unrelated. It seems fair you share some of this victory with us. Also," She adds, her smile growing into something more serious but still soft. "You deserve better than work as a freelance reporter and a part-time waitress, Piper. You proved to have talent in finding information, even with limited resources. Not to mention guts to face a kingpin like Balik. But try not to sneak into someone like him again, would you?"

She winks and for once, you are left utterly speechless.

The feeling so foreign that it's kind of uncomfortable.

But in the end, you manage to find the words, simple and honest, they fall from your lips with all your gratitude, for everything.

"I... Thank you, Nicky."

She smiles.

"You are welcome."

"You are not going to get in some trouble for giving me this?" You can't help but add in afterthought, because the last thing you want to do if you really are going to use the information she has given you to write an article, is getting the agent who saved your and your lover's life, into trouble.

"Confident informant privilege or something." She shrugs and the casual, almost disinterested way she says that makes you laugh. She is law enforcement and yet she seems to kick off protocol sometimes.

"I'll make good use of this." You promise her holding up the folder of files and she grins confidently.

"I'm sure you will, kid. Oh, and there is something... _extra_ in there, too." She says casually, gesturing to the thick folder still in your hands.

With that and a parting _"go check on your girl, she is growing restless"_ accompanied with an exaggerated although affectionate eye roll that makes you laugh once more, Nicky leaves.

It is only when she is out of sight that you recollect your thoughts, blink away the lingering stupor still clinging to you about the information just handed over, and remember about what else she said about the content of the folder.

You open it once more, and in the moment you tip it on the side, two little evidence bags drop into your palm.

The first one contains Alex's earrings.

Your earrings.

The pearls that she gifted you. And that Balik stole before forcing you into a car and driving you to that bridge.

And the other...

It's the contents of other one what makes the breath catch in your throat.

The reason for all this trouble.

So tiny and shiny and beautiful.

Glimmering with the same intensity and shade of its rightful owner's eyes.

Alex's gem.

Finally returned. At last.

Case closed.

 **. . .**

Alex is getting dismissed in a couple of days.

The doctor interrupts you before you can give Alex the evidence bag containing the gem, but the news is indeed very welcomed. She still stayed in more days than necessary, just a precaution. The cut on her forehead is already healed, and it looks more like a scratch than anything else, it seems like it's not even going to scar, luckily.

Her shoulder, however... even if the bullet wound is closing very nicely, the damage she sustained for having heroically climbed her way through a bridge in such conditions, is going to take some more time to heal and she will need physical therapy for it.

As soon as the doctor finishes to check her over and a nurse leaves after changing her dressing, you step closer to her bedside and simply hand her over the bag.

The way her eyes squint and then widen in recognition, lips parted in bewilderment, stir some of that same enjoyable guilt inside you for not having warned her. Because taking Alex Vause by surprise is indeed a very rare opportunity and you can't not take the occasion to enjoy the sight of it.

She pulls the gem out from the evidence bag to examine it closely, no doubt making sure that it's the real one and not just another imitation, but she looks convinced even if still a bit shocked.

"Nicky..." She says at last, knowingly, with a sigh and a little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Always been a sneaky one."

"I bet it was quite the competition between you two then." You deadpan and Alex lets out a quiet chuckle of agreement. She gets a bit lost in thought, turning the gem over between her fingers, looking a million of miles away.

"You okay?" You ask her softly after a few moments of still silence.

The sound of your voice brings her back, she blinks into focus and looks up at you.

"Yeah, I was just thinking... About how much trouble we went through for... _This._ wondering if it was all worth it."

You would be lying if you haven't wondered about such thing during these days, if it was worth all the anguish and heartache, the slicing pain that you felt cutting through your chest - and that you still feel, even if in a more numb way - when you thought that Alex was gone.

"Was it?" You ask her, too curious to keep that question for yourself.

She abandons the gem, almost carelessly on the bedsheets in her lap, and reaches out to take your hand in hers tugging your closer until you take a seat on the edge of her bed and she smiles.

"I'm glad to have it back. I searched for it for a long time, but... I'm not sure I would risk getting in such danger again for a shiny crystalized stone."

"I did it willingly." You remind her.

"I know."

You pick up the gem, studying it closely, left a bit mesmerized by the way it captures the light in the room to make it shine in all the most beautiful shade of green and blue.

You think about Balik being willing to kill you both over this little inanimate stone, and you can't help but wonder once more if,

"Is it really a part of that Spanish galleon's treasure?"

It just sounds so... Utterly absurd.

"I was telling the truth the other night." Alex shakes her head, thoughtfully. "I'm really not sure. All I know for sure is that I've never seen anything like it or even similar, and that someone went to a big trouble to steal it back."

You get what she is saying. Or rather _implying_.

Maybe you'll never know. But Alex doesn't seem to care much about that either.

That gem was her mother's.

That's all it takes to make it precious to her.

And the way she smiles, when you hand it back to her, the way she cradles it in her palm and the way her eyes turn a bit glossy when she admires it with that far away look, with a flash of a fragile memory playing in her mind...

Well...

Maybe some of that trouble was worth it to get her back that last little something that her mother left her.

 **. . .**

You write the article.

The material Nicky has given you is more than enough to come up with an exhaustive piece.

You send it to the most important contact you have from one of the newspapers you have "worked" for occasionally.

It gets published the next day.

And when your phone starts ringing no stop since the early hours of the morning, you realize that you might have underestimated what writing a piece of such caliber would have triggered.

Suddenly, everyone seems interested in you.

Getting reporter's job offers from every newspaper in the city. And it feels quite flattering to say the least, but also annoying considering that no one took you seriously before this.

Still, you delay some of the calls.

Alex is getting released from the hospital today, and you will take care of your full voicemail after you bring her safely home.

The smile that she gives you when you enter into her room, finding her already half dressed and struggling to get inside one of the sweatshirts you brought for her from her place, is filled with an excitement that you recognize even before you notice the newspaper folded on the nightstand, and before she greets you with an enthusiastic, "You are famous, Pipes."

Apparently, getting her by surprise more than once a week is not possible.

"Nicky helped me, a lot." You admit modestly, and the disappointment about breaking the news to her is taken away by the relief swelling in your chest in seeing her so energetic, recovering so quickly, and itching with the need to get out of here.

"Of course she did. She is humanitarian like that." Alex smirks. "But the talent was all you. It was a pretty great article." She comments sincerely, but not impressed, as if she expected nothing but the best from you already. "Every editor in the city is going to fight over you now."

As if on cue, your phone starts buzzing again and you groan out loud.

"You should answer it." She chuckles, eyes still bright with that flame of pride that lits you up from the inside as well. But you just shake your head at her after pocketing your phone once more.

"Later." You tell her, because if there is one thing you have learned during this whole ordeal, is that some things can be delayed, while other most important like taking care of someone very loved, take priority. Also... "I'm going to play hard to get. And first, I want to get you home."

It's only after a few moments, after you have helped Alex slip into the sweatshirt she has been wrestling with for the last minute and then carefully secured her arm on her sling once more and taken her duffle bag, ready to leave, that you notice that Alex is looking at you with one of those annoying, gorgeous broad smirks of hers that you think back about what just slipped from your lips.

 _Home._

 _Oh._

"I mean... I meant at _your place_!"

But your stuttered awkwardly-blurted answer and the way you flush into a soft pink only widens the sly smile playing on her lips.

"I would love for you to stay, Piper," Alex admits openly, stepping closer to you. "If you want to, of course. After all, I do have lots of space, a big study you could use, and-"

"And one big-" _tall, beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful_ "distraction." You finish eyeing her quite obviously, because there is _no way_ that you'll _ever_ be able to focus with Alex anywhere near you, even with her still recovering from her injury.

And of course, she just grins, looking so very proud of her mentioned _distracting_ abilities. "Am I now?"

It's impossible to resist the compelling mischief reflected into those deep emerald lakes. It draws you instinctively closer to her.

"Doctor said no physical activities for a while." You remind her but the words lose their warning when you are practically purring them against her lips.

"I'm sure we can find a way around that, or even act that roleplay out." Alex says, circling your waist with her uninjured arm, hand coming to rest just on the small of your back to bring you closer, almost flush against her.

The breath catches in your throat and your stomach flutters in that familiar way it always does with her close proximity.

"Alex..." You whisper, mind already starting to go fuzzy, body tingling all over.

"If I didn't know how ticklish you are, I would even invite your phone to join us."

You frown, blinking in confusion. "What?"

And then you feel it, too.

Your phone.

 _Vibrating_ from the front pocket of your jeans with another call.

Alex bursts out laughing at the look taking over your face as you pull away from her and then shove her - still gently and mindful of her injury despite your consuming embarrassment - towards the door, with a muttered: "Shut up."

But for how much you try not to show it, there is a smile that keeps tugging quite persistently at your lips for the whole cab ride at... home. The same one that you keep seeing on Alex and that brightens, even more, when you decide to stay there with her.

Not quite realizing at the moment how much it feels like a first tentative step to... living together.

* * *

 **Since the previous chapter came out kind of... tense... I tried to counterbalance it here with a dash of fluff :)**


	16. Chapter 16

Hi everyone!

Happy new year! It took me a while, I know, but I've been catching up with the last Orphan Black episodes and my attention - and mood - had inevitably shifted a little towards Cophine. So... to make it short I've been taking a short cruise on that other ship towards their happy ending.

But now I'm back to this ship, all Vauseman :D And I have the epilogue of this story ready for you guys.

Before I leave you to it however, I wanted to thank you, for being so patient, and so supportive of this AU story :) I can't say how much I appreciate all your kindness, and I'm truly delighted that you have enjoyed it so far. So thank you guys, for being so amazing and so lovely :D

Enjoy

* * *

"You have been training with Nicky, haven't you?"

Even if your eyes narrow into a suspicious little glare, the smirk that tugs at your lips give away the playfulness standing behind that accusation. And you are not even one bit surprised when Alex just smirks back, even more brightly, as she finishes the last set of exercises with the rubber band.

"Maybe," She answers playing innocent, but proving exactly your point when she does a couple extra repetitions and the easy smirk dancing on her lips quickly shapes into a wider, familiar grin.

She is not even a bit sweaty.

And honestly, you couldn't be any more delighted to see her move so freely and easily, without showing any sign of discomfort, without grimacing or stifling groans of pain. She already had plenty of it.

But lately, her muscle resistance got so much better, and her mobility is back one hundred percent, and you have to admit that you were already suspecting the involvement of a certain petite messy-haired ATF agent in helping Alex, something that would also explain your lover's extra disappearances during the day around the house.

Her penthouse.

Where you have inevitably been spending a lot of your time, that's it, when you are not at your desk at the newspaper office, drowning in work.

Alex has grown so used to having you here at her place, that she has started to refer to it as yours - as in both yours and her - apartment.

"Wanted to keep it a secret from me, uh?" You ask her suspiciously, snapping the rubber band back at her. She catches it easily and chuckles, deep and chesty and so sweetly amused by your childish playfulness.

"More like I wanted to _surprise_ you." The smirk on her lips widens further into the most beautiful, unapologetic grin. You scoot over to her on the yoga mat, straddling her lap, bracing yourself on her broad shoulders, making her laugh, that soft laugh that hits your right in that tender spot inside your chest that makes your heart flutter in response, a sound so sweet and deep that never fails to make you swoon a little. You muffle the rest of it by pressing your lips against hers.

Alex answers enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you closer, tilting her chin up to close the extra inch of advantage that you have in this position as you dip your tongue in her mouth and swallow the blissful sigh that rumbles in her throat when you deepen the kiss.

"You are not going to thank Nicky for her patience with me like this, are you?" She asks teasingly when you part, voice low and exquisitely husky, green eyes sparkling with amusement and that something else that kissing her so deeply has inevitably stirred. "You know, I'm not the jealous type, _but_ I might have something to say about it if that's your intention."

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation earning another laugh from her, but still think about a way you could thank your mutual, trusted friend for putting up with your insufferable lover and helping her train to gain back her full strength.

"Any more awesome surprises up your sleeve today, Al?" The question is asked with more playfulness than anything else, and you don't expect anything in particular, but immediately know that there is when that question earns you yet another grin.

"Well, now that you asked..." With that, and that cryptic smile shaping her lips, without disturbing your comfortable, intimate position, she stretches back and reaches for her bag on the coffee table, pulling out an envelope, handing it to you with the unmistakable thrill of anticipation shimmering in the depths of her green eyes.

You accept it, keeping your teasingly suspicious gaze locked with hers until you open it and pull out...

Tickets.

Plane tickets.

You frown.

"We never got to do that trip," She explains with a half shrug when you look up at her inquisitively, and then you remember, that time, when you briefly, lightly discussed the possibility to go somewhere together, the same night before the mess that went down with Balik.

"Yeah, well, you got shot," You remind her, but under the ease with which the words come out, even after all this time, hearing them out loud closes up your throat a bit.

You swallow the tight ball of old paralyzing fear that gets stuck in there, but can't prevent your hand from sliding down Alex's shoulder, tugging aside the strap of her tank top and, with your thumb, stroke gently the scarred, smooth, little, uneven circle left there.

You lean in and press your lips against it, hearing Alex release a soft breath through her nose at the tenderness of the contact, her entire body melting under the meaningfulness of the gesture.

It is only when her hand comes up from your waist to cup your jaw, that you pull back after a lingering moment, blinking away the images that have inevitably flashed before your eyes at the memories of that fateful night, meeting her gaze.

"I'm much better now." She smiles, and you still have to understand how even just seeing that soft smile, or feeling the warm, soft touch of her hand on your skin, having her thumb stroke so tenderly the shell of your ear after she has tucked a strand of hair behind it, has the power to erase every bad, troubling thought from your mind and reassure you in ways you have never been able to voice. But you are infinitely grateful, just like you are, every moment of every day, that she is actually here. With you. Even if in your efforts to keep the house clean and in order she keeps insisting on leaving a trail of clothes behind her on the way to the shower, _-what? I'll pick them up when I'm done here, Piper-_ because apparently, you have fallen in that sort of domesticity. It's a behavior that drives you a little nuts sometimes, and you know that Alex does it _definitely_ on purpose just so you can scowl at her with an armful of her clothes when she smirks from behind the shower glass panel, looking totally unapologetic, because you _always_ cave in and end up joining her anyway.

"So..." Alex pulls you back from those thoughts of innocent domestic... uh _, friction,_ and the return of playfulness in her voice is as much welcomed as the lovable smirk that shapes her lips in full striking force, taking away the tendrils of heaviness that lingered after the brief return to that night's events. "What do you say, Miss Chapman?" She teases, "Can the newspaper prodigy and one of New York's most popular, youngest reporters take some time off for a trip?"

She gives you too much credit.

But finally, you allow the excitement that has been swirling just beneath the surface, to fully emerge, letting the grin that tugs insistently at your lips bloom at the prospect of a much-needed vacation with Alex.

"Where are we going?"

 **. . .**

Paradise.

There are no other words to describe not only the place where you and Alex have mutually decided to go, but also how it feels like when every morning you wake up in each other's arms with none of the usual rush of a work day urging you apart, in a bungalow by the beach of one of the most secluded Hawaiian islands.

She's always had _a thing_ for privacy after all.

Usually, you wake up first. The shy, early morning glow seeping into the bedroom, facing the small yard and the ocean just behind it, is enough to stir you from sleep, but not enough to fully pull you out of it. You just turn on your side and bury your head in the crook of Alex's neck, shielding your face from those first timidly-hinted sunrays filtering through the glass walls, inhaling deeply the citrus-sweet scent of her after sun lotion, mingled with the salt of the sea that lingers on her skin these days, almost getting lulled back to sleep by her soft, even breathing, and the more faint, distant, muffled sound of the waves of the ocean licking at the shore.

You even manage to doze off for a few more minutes, but eventually, you get once more torn away from that quiet in-between state when you feel Alex stir beneath you, feel her chest swell with a deeper breath, right before she turns on her side and releases it through her nose.

And even with the most beautiful sunrise happening outside, with the stunning layers of gray and blue bleeding into the bright pink of morning, you find yourself utterly unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of a sleepy Alex slowly waking up, adorably scrunching up her face with a groan of protest as she turns away from the sun.

You chuckle when she burrows deeper between you and the pillows, and, with her eyes still closed, plants a kiss on your jaw, tenderly nuzzling your cheek with a purring sound scratching sweetly at the back of her throat.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." You tease her, reaching up and carding your fingers to play with her gorgeous, proud, dark mane. Alex hums at the contact and pulls back, just enough to blink her eyes open and get accustomed to the light filling the bedroom, and when she finally gets her surrounding into focus, your gaze is the first thing she searches for. And just like every morning you have woken up next to each other, not only here, but also back at her apartment for the last several months, you have that same thought flaring in your mind and echoing in each stuttering beat of your heart. That this is the sight you want to wake up to for the rest of your life.

The grin that stretches across her face is so bright that it outmatches the sunlight filtering through the glass walls despite the traces of sleep still clinging to her.

"Morning, Pipes." She greets huskily, and just like that, she rolls over for the rest of the way to end up on top of you. And you can't help but laugh because even when she is just barely awake, she finds the need to establish this sort of dynamic.

You certainly don't mind. Not even one bit.

The warmth of her body on top of yours, the way her exquisite curves fit just so perfectly with your own, makes it very hard to complain, especially when you are still naked under the sheets, not having bothered to put on some clothes after last night's... activities.

You run your hands up and down her back, enjoying the play of muscles under that impossibly soft skin, and the way she squirms away when you brush the tips of your fingers across that surprisingly ticklish spot on her lower back.

"I could get used to this." You tell her, leaning in to kiss the patch of freckles that have formed on her shoulder under the unforgiving sun despite the sunscreen.

Alex chuckles and reminds you that, "We already do this almost every morning."

That's true. You do, even back in the city, even during a work day, when you know you are definitely going to be late, but apparently neither of you can keep your hands for yourselves in such tempting, skin against skin circumstances.

"Yeah but, here I don't have the pending thought of my boss ranting at me about interviews and deadlines and last-minute editing and all that." You justify, shrugging as much you can in this position, and Alex honestly laughs at your reply, undoubtedly catching the lie in there.

"You love it." She says knowingly, and damn her. Damn her and her attractive perceptiveness. "You love having someone breathing down your neck, keeping you on your toes. It keeps you motivated and on the edge."

She knows you too well. And she knows exactly how you feel about your job, even if you pretend to sound irritated by some aspects of it from time to time.

But... Speaking about edges...

You grin cheekily at her. "I love it so much more when you bring me over it."

As expected she takes that as an invitation and the smirk that you receive back at that unnecessary admission is everything you know precedes the inevitable morning bed activities that will keep you blissfully busy for quite some time.

And you can only lean in and surrender to the inevitably of it with the softest kiss.

 **. . .**

You know that she is up to something when, a couple of days later, she ditches your usual bed-beach-sunlight-boat ride and swim routine, and volunteers to do something much different.

 _"Trekking?"_ You ask her, not knowing if you should be more amused or suspicious, because while you absolutely love the idea to explore a bit more the island you are staying, you are also very aware that for how much Alex enjoys adventures, hiking isn't exactly one of her favorite activities. Although, strangely enough, she appears to be looking forward to it, even if the excitement that you see on the smile on her face seems to mask something else; an unexpected veil of nervousness that you notice more clearly from the way she fidgets absently with her thumbnail. A minimal detail that speaks volume to you. But nothing alarming, because she is still smiling, and it reaches her eyes when she explains further.

"Yeah, there is this route, it follows the entire perimeter of the island, mostly from above and it offers quite the view." It's all that she says but there is still the hint of something in that smile, matched in the soft gleam shimmering in her green eyes...

It's a look that intrigues you, and you have absolutely no objections to her offer. Quite the opposite in fact. And you get even more excited about it thinking that she is, most definitely, up to something.

An idea flares in your mind as you regard her curiously, suspiciously enough that she tilts her head to the side, brow slightly furrowed in question in front of the smirk that has curled up your lips.

"What?" She asks, looking sincerely puzzled for once.

You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to hide the teasing in your tone and suppress the smile that you feel twitching more insistently at your lips, willing your features to shape into a resembling stern look. "You didn't bring me to this incredible, although very remote island because there _might be_ some forgotten pirate treasure hidden somewhere around, did you?"

Lately has been very easy to forget what Alex's undying passion involves.

She does such an impressive work of keeping perfectly straight face at that half-hearted accusation, that for the following seconds you think that such idea might not be unfounded actually. Something awfully close to concern starts to bloom in your chest.

And the situation only worsens when she takes a step closer and, lowering her voice in a very conspiratorial tone, she asks you, "What if there is?"

You honestly startle at that not-quite a confirmation of your surfacing doubt.

"Because, you know," She continues, totally aware of your rising anxiety. Enjoying the sight of it as if grows into shock. "There are rumors about pirates treasures that have never been found, and it's a well-known fact that Captain Avery used to raid ships that sailed these waters, so... who knows. Maybe he and his crew opened an... emergency bank account on one of these islands. Like a retirement plan."

And there it is.

That glint, the specks of gold sparkling with mischief at the bottom of those endless emerald lakes.

You refuse to take the bait, narrowing your eyes at her while feeling that sense of excitement stirs in your belly despite everything.

"Avery died _of poverty_ in England." You point out. "I highly doubt he wouldn't have come back to retrieve his alleged hidden treasure if he could."

Alex shrugs. "Maybe he was too afraid of being captured again, and executed like some of his crew members."

This time, you really don't know if she is being serious about this whole thing or if she is just teasing you like she seems to take great satisfaction in doing.

When her expression gives nothing at all, you start to worry. Looking at her with lips parted, gaping, utterly speechless, until you manage to stutter an incredulous, "Are you _kidding_ me?! You actually brought me here for-"

Apparently, that's all she can take.

She bursts out laughing.

And, as you scowl at her, you think that you should have known it was all an attempt to tease you.

You swat her, hard, but a smile is already twitching at your lips, too. Partially amused by her jests, and partially, undoubtedly, relieved.

"Relax, Piper." She reassures at last. "If I wanted to go search for some buried pirate treasure I would have brought you in Madagascar. Or maybe somewhere in the Caribbean." She smirks and you let her soft humor, and the arms that come up to wrap loosely around your waist, pulling you closer, to melt away the doubts that had stirred in the back of your mind.

"I guess we can always go there for another trip." You suggest, wrapping your arms around her neck, succeeding in making her laugh, delighted, but still keep a close look at her, and only have the confirmation that she hasn't actually brought you here in a quest to find some long-lost pirate treasure when you see that she doesn't bring along shovels with you the next day.

You leave early in the morning, packing food and lots of water. It's so early that the sun is still reluctant to properly show up, but the sight of this part of the world slowly waking up in its infinite layers of blue smoothing into pink towards the horizon is utterly stunning.

The air is pleasantly chilly outside, the breeze fresh and crisp, the ocean so peacefully calm, while Alex is contrastingly buzzing with an energy of which origin you can't quite identify, but she keeps smiling at you, even though with less mischief and more softness, and she still teases you, makes you laugh and blush and make you wish that you didn't leave the house today considering the looks that she throws your way, and how much you want to deepen the kisses you occasionaly fall into during the first part of your long trek, but giving in to those urges and making love in the wilderness, for how exciting the idea might seem, it doesn't exactly look very comfortable. But that's fine.

You'll have all the time in the world when you get back.

For now, you just enjoy the foreplay of those suggestive looks.

When the sun is high in the sky and warmer on your skin, more or less around midday, you are descending, finding some sort of hidden lagoon cradled between two folds of the island, a perfect spot to rest for some time, and an inviting clear water where to swim in.

There are other people around; Alex wasn't exaggerating when she said that the route offered a phenomenal view; wonderful enough to attract other tourists' attention apparently, but the place is large enough that you still find some privacy in the spot where you settle.

You lay down the towels right under a palm tree that offers some shadow from the unforgiving sun, stripping down from your hiker's outfit and to the bathing suit that you have put on underneath, just in case.

The water here is even clearer, if that's even possible, and while Alex is more than happy to just bask lazily in the sun like a napping cat, you are utterly unable to resist the temptation to swim for a little, cooling off after the long trek.

Alex might not be very fond of diving, but you don't mind, hearing her muffled chuckles follow you even underwater after you put your goggles on and jump right in.

The bottom is incredibly clear, and the idea of swimming further from the shore, where the sea life gets thicker and much more interesting, is very tempting, but you stay nearby, reaching just the safe limit before the water gets too deep, and it's right there, when the seafloor of sand at the bottom is starting to turn into something more rocky and uneven, surrounded by corals and many beautiful, colorful fishes swimming around, seemingly unthreatened by your presence, that something catches your attention.

You dive those couples of meters deeper, curiously, and are delighted to find out that there is no mistaking what you indeed thought you saw.

You emerge a minute later, with one hand full of your discovery, and start swimming lazily back to the shore, enjoying the quiet splash of water around you, the feeling of it on your skin, so fresh and soothing against the heat of the sun from above.

"How's the water, kid?" Alex asks, from where she is lying down, peeking one eye open, and then the other, when she hears you get out from the water and approach the little quiet spot you have claimed for yourselves.

"It would have been better with you in it." You answer truthfully, taking off your goggles.

"I don't know," Alex counters, looking at you up and down, taking in your figure with that intensely gleaming gaze. "You look wet enough."

You just snort in response, kind of expecting something like that from her and that unmistakable look she was giving you.

"Here," You tell her, depositing the oysters you found in front of her as she sits up on the towel, laughing at the presented... gifts.

"You went fishing us some appetizers, Pipes?"

"Not exactly." You answer, distractedly, tilting your head to the side as you squeeze the water from your hair before taking a seat on your own towel. You have no intention of eating raw oysters and you surely aren't letting Alex either.

There is another reason why you picked them up, and surely, Alex knows that, too.

"There were more, but I'd have needed a fishing net to scoop them all up." You tell her, flashing her a smirk.

She clicks her tongue and shakes her head in mock disappointment. "And here you thought _I_ was the one who came here to dig for buried treasures." She teases, squirming away with a chuckle when you childishly flick some of the water still dripping from your hand at her before you reach for the other towel, draping it over your shoulders as she picks the first oysters up and unzips her backpack, searching for the swiss knife.

She must have done it many times before, because with just the minimal effort, after having inserted the tip of the knife inside, the shell snaps neatly open, and you think that it's just perfectly appropriate when, not only the nacre inside turns out to offer an incredible pattern, but, cradled preciously in between the folds of the mollusc, there also happens to be a stunning pearl.

Hearing Alex's laugh when she finds it, is as sweet as the lulling waves of the ocean surrounding you and the way her entire face lits up when she picks it up and admires it like you have seen her admire other shiny precious things, is even more rewarding.

"Maybe we should have brought a fishing net." She quips handing you the pearl. "Nice pick, Pipes."

You flush a bit, dismiss the compliment with "just luck, I guess." But there is that smile again on her face then, when your gazes lock for those extra seconds that makes you believe it is only you and her in the entire world. That veiled look that hides a deeper emotion below the surface, it strikes you with a certain vulnerability, like she is contemplating something, gaze shifting between you, the pearl shimmering in your palm, before darting furtively to her backpack.

For a moment she looks like she might reach for something in it and you frown curiously, wondering what else she is up to, what kind of thought is running in that brilliant mind of hers, but just when she seems to have made up her decision and is halfway to retrieve her bag, the sounds of laughter and splashes echoing from the other side of the lagoon as a group of people dive off a cliff, disrupt whatever intention she had. Instead, she reaches for the cooler bag where you have packed your lunch when your stomach rumbles loudly, much to your embarrassment.

"Let eat," She chuckles, "Apparently I'm not the only one starving."

You mumble something that sounds like agreement under your breath, way too embarrassed to properly look up at her, or even remember what Alex was about to do not even a minute ago before you got distracted.

You just sit there and enjoy the quietness of such a blissful simple moment, eating under a tree palm on the shore of this amazing, hidden lagoon, occasionally stealing glances at the gorgeous woman in the black bikini next to you, who, in return, keeps stealing strawberries from your fruit salad.

 **. . .**

After entire days spent in the house doing nothing but bed activities - intense bed activities - you think that you are in a much better shape than you thought, because in between swimming and diving and hiking across an island for the entire day, you expected to feel much more worn out by the time late afternoon starts melting into the bright bleeding orange of sunset, but you still agree for a short break when Alex suggests it.

The walk back home is going to take less than half an hour, and the decision of taking a break comes mostly as an opportunity to enjoy the breathtaking view of the sun beginning to set than anything else.

The little hill you are on offers an excellent advantage point. The ocean expands before you, seemingly endless, gently crashing on the rocks of the cliff below. It is only when you sit down, however, on a clean patch of relatively short grass, and feel your muscles ache a bit, that you realize you might be more tired than you realized.

The soft groan that slips past your lips, and the way your hip pops loudly when you sit down, also inform Alex of that.

"You okay kid?" She asks, attempting for serious but the smirk tugging at her lips takes away the concern from her tone. "I thought I was going to be the one who would have had problems with some exercising after staying benched for so long."

You narrow your eyes at her but the raw affection held in your gaze and the relief in knowing that she is returned to her one-hundred-percent old self, is way too intense to properly deliver that nasty glare, and she chuckles.

"I guess you'll have to do all the work tonight." You tease suggestively, not even one bit surprised by the deeply amused laugh that the comment earns you as she shrugs off the backpack and takes a seat beside you stretching her arm a bit to lose some stiffness.

"That's hardly a punishment for me, _pillow queen."_ She quips and you gasp, offended, swatting her only to earn another round of laughter in return. Before her humor can escalate into something that you keep pretending to find infuriating but secretly love, you bring a hand on the back of her neck and pull her towards you, muffling the rest of her chuckles against your lips.

You don't think you'll ever get used to the magnificence and the sense of completeness that always blooms in your chest whenever you melt into a kiss with Alex.

It's the most natural thing you have ever experienced. Easier than breathing.

Yet another one you know you can't get without.

Pulling back from it, from the softness of her mouth and the gentle swirl of her tongue along yours, pains you a little, but the smile that you are met with when your eyes flutter open, soothes some of that sting of disappointment that pokes at your chest, even if the feeling leaves your throat a bit dry. Or maybe that has to do with how beautiful she looks.

"Would you pass me the water flask, please?"

Her gaze, sparkling with the seemingly ever-present glint of amusement, doesn't leave yours as she hands the flask over, and of course, she waits for you to take a few big gulps from it before flashing a smirk, slow and wide and cheeky, and you already know what's coming.

"Thirsty, huh? Good to know."

You roll your eyes and swallow the last sip with a groan of exasperation.

"You are insufferable." You tell her, wiping the trickle of water that has dripped down your chin with the back of your hand.

The comment, however, only makes her grin wider. Proudly. And it's so damn irritating how sexy that smile is on her already criminally gorgeous face.

"You love it." She simply replies, confidently, knowingly.

And for how much it annoys you, there is no arguing that. Or the way her eyes soften with that intoxicating, warmer, vibrant green of deep affection.

She looks so beautiful, with her dark hair blowing softly in the gentle, salty breeze, her alabaster skin kissed by the rays of the slowly setting sun, in a way that almost makes you jealous. It's a sight that you know will never stop from making your heart flutter so wildly.

"I do." You answer, at last, helplessly.

Alex's grin turns into that softer smile again then. The one you have seen, especially today, on her face whenever you have stolen a glance at her in between the usual, playful back and forth of banters during your long trek. It stirs something in you, tugging at the strings that have been winding deep in your chest, leaving you utterly breathless.

It's only when the wind blows again, bringing along the smell of salt that you breathe again, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head to tilt back as you inhale deeply.

"It's so wonderful here, Al." You breathe, opening your eyes and taking in the stunning sight of the sunset before you and of the magnificent woman beside you, letting out a long breath as you start to think that this is a vacation that is going to end eventually. "I can't believe we have just another week to spend here."

She chuckles at your whine and ducks her head, turning on the side to fiddle with one of the backpack inner pockets.

"Well then, hopefully, I can make the rest of our time here more memorable." It's all that she says, and you frown when she takes a few extra, long moments before turning back to you after she has found whatever she was looking for.

The light shaking of her hand isn't lost on you.

"Alex?"

The sound of her name steadies her, and you see, more than hear, when she lets out a long breath, watching her shoulders slump with the exhale before she finally turns, straightening up, but keeping her head ducked and her gaze fixed on her lap, more specifically on her hand.

She's holding something there, so tightly, yet carefully, between her thumb and forefinger that at first you don't even see it or realize what it is.

That's it until she moves, ever so slightly, and the sunlight happens to hit something small and shiny, and then you recognize it immediately.

That unmistakable glint, those shades of blue and green mingled into something unique. An old memento shaped into something new.

And mounted on a metal band.

Your breath gets caught in your throat and your heart halts instantly. Only to resume double time when Alex glances up at you, smiling, a shy, shaky twitch, but with that inextinguishable sparkle of amusement that always shimmers through whenever she catches you by surprise.

Although, you are way beyond surprise right now.

"You know," She says shifting her gaze down again, toying with that tiny glinting item held preciously between her fingers that you think you already know what it is but still can't wrap your mind around. "I've never really thought about what I would have liked to do with this gem. I had a few ideas before it was stolen, but I would have never imagined to use it this way..."

She admits, and you finally begin to have the confirmation of what is exactly happening when she shifts in her position and faces you... bent on one knee.

"Or that I would have _ever_ done this, for that matter."

"Oh my God." You gasp, realization sinking in so fast that it leaves you dizzy.

"But I also couldn't have known that I would have met you..." Alex continues, "Or maybe that _you_ would have _found me_ it's the case maybe." She corrects, flashing you one of her trademark smirks, and it is only when you laugh upon that sweet memory of your first encounter, almost a year ago, in that luxurious hotel bar, and hear the wet quality held in your voice, that you realize that you're crying, at last, acknowledging the knot in your throat and the tears streaking down your cheeks when the wind blows gently on your face.

Your chest feels suddenly too tight to properly breathe, constricting with the overwhelming emotions swelling inside there all at once, and the way Alex is looking at you with all that warm affection and the ever-present glint of mischief that has your heart trip all over itself. Beat after beat, with the knowledge of what is happening.

She holds up the ring, giving you the chance to truly, properly admire it in its completeness, from the elegant band, glinting like silver but with the slightly thicker robustness and grayer shade of titanium, to the expertly cut, familiar blue-green aquamarine mounted delicately on top.

It's... _Perfect._

It reminds you of strength and beauty all at once.

And it makes you all the more emotional thinking that, not only she used her mother's gem to make you an engagement ring, but that if Alex has crafted it in such way, it is because she must see you like this.

"You know," She says, pensively, so softly that her voice is barely above the sound of wind.

"If there is one thing that that Balik bastard said and was right about, is that if you find something precious, you should keep it."

You remember those words. Harsh and cruel. Right before the gunshot rung all around you, crumpling your hopes and shattering your entire being with anguish when you saw Alex getting hit while pushing you out of the way.

You swallow, thickly and for a moment that sense of anguish returns, burning painfully in your chest, but Alex, and the soft hand that she introduce between yours, knowingly, recognizing that distant look on your face, brings you back to the present, to this moment, where you are both safe, and where Alex is about to ask you a very important question.

"I have spent a great deal of time chasing after precious things, Piper." She says, smiling when you do too. "But you are the only truly inestimable one that fell into my life."

Her voice doesn't crack but it grows thicker with the same emotions that are swimming in her endless green eyes.

"So... Piper Chapman," She continues, straightening, softly clearing her throat, and your gaze darts up from where it had shifted down on the ring once more, to meet hers through the blurriness of the tears that have pooled in your eyes, blinking them away just in time to see her smile widening into that endearing slightly shy version that you have so rarely seen before as she fiddles nervously with her glasses. "Will you marry me so that I can keep you safe and you can keep me out of trouble, forever?"

You can't help but choke out a laugh through your tears, but under the humorous way she has phrased that question, you can see all the affection in its purest, raw form, in the way she's smiling at you.

When you answer, eventually - taking the occasion to keep her on the edge for a couple of seconds longer - it couldn't have been anything other than the choked, overjoyed _yes_ that has been swelling in your chest since you have seen her kneel.

You fall into each other arms in the same instant, and you kiss, still smiling, still laughing, in that moment of stillness that stretches into infinity. With the sun hiding halfway under the ocean at the horizon, warming you with its soft orange glow, as the millions of stars above - without the usual city light pollution to shield such glorious sight - start to pierce that portion of the sky that is darkening into night. Like millions of witnesses showing up exactly for this moment.

 **. . .**

Years pass, and you make sure that the Red Rose Thief doesn't rise again.

It's not as a difficult task as you suspected it was going to be actually.

Rumors say that _he_ has been caught somewhere in Japan, others in Europe, during a medieval jewelry exhibition.

No one would ever suspect that the _woman_ responsible for the thefts that have left the entire world gaping in wonder, despite the nature of her - somehow innocent, and definitely victimless - crimes, is currently free, living in New York, working _\- legally -_ in her small, quaint, old jeweler workshop, considered one of the most talented goldsmiths and diamonds cutter in the city, and is very requested for her inimitable skills and unique, refined design patterns.

No one would imagine the most wanted and elusive thief of the world to be best friends with a certain ATF agent.

No one would picture such thief _married_ to a _journalist_ that works for one of the most respected newspapers in the city.

And, no one, you think, would _definitely_ ever imagine her being left completely powerless to the charm of yours five years old daughter.

"She is starting to like shiny things _way_ too much." Alex sighs one night when she slips tiredly under the covers.

You close your book, setting it on the nightstand before turning on your side to face her, already smiling as you guess what her complaint is about.

"Did she hide some of your in-progress-jewels again?"

Alex groans in exasperation.

"I don't even know how she does it. I mean... I keep them _locked_ in a drawer at work and I'm the only one who has the key!" She can pretend to be irritated by it all she wants, but there is an unmistakable note of pride seeping in her voice that certainly isn't lost on you.

And you burst out laughing anyway in the end.

"Not funny Piper. She took the three green diamonds I cut the other day. I thought I had lost them and I need them for a client order." She glares at you when you just keep snickering, eventually giving up and looking at the ceiling instead, sighing and shaking her head, thoughtfully. "Kid's already way too smart."

You can only agree proudly to that. "That she is."

Alex sighs again.

"Maybe I should stop bringing her with me at the workshop." She ponders quietly, but the idea saddens her more than having to search all around for her "mysteriously missing" stuff annoys her.

"She loves watching you work." You tell her, grinning, picturing your little girl, with Alex's green eyes and your irresistible dimples, smiling brightly with excitement and wonder and that endless curiosity that only a five years old can have.

"But yeah," You agree in afterthought, "I think we'll need to steer her... interests and inclinations about taking shiny little things without permission, towards something that will not make her a world-wide-known criminal when she's all grown up."

"Or..." Alex suggests, eyes widening brightly with another idea and with that smile already tugging at her lips that promises trouble. "I could get back into my old business and she could be my partner in cri-"

"Don't even _think_ about turning our daughter into a criminal." You interrupt her before her mind can wander towards directions you are never sure, not even now after years spent with her, if she could seriously consider or not. Luckily, when she laughs, you know she was actually just joking. And it's no small relief.

"And while you are at it," You tell her with a tone that is only half scolding. "Try to go easy with all the lost treasures and explorers stories that you tell her. You might encourage her to walk your same path."

Alex has even the audacity to _grin._

"She's already fascinated by Ancient Egypt, and _I,"_ She stresses turning on her side, throwing you a pointed look, under which you deflate and shift guiltily your gaze around the bedroom at the accusation that is coming. _"Am not_ the one who taught her all that stuff."

"I was writing a piece, and she is always so curious about history that is alarming for a child of her age!"

And this time, it is Alex's turn to laugh at your poor defense.

"Fine. Whatever you say _, darling,"_ She placates, mockingly, patronizingly, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth to smooth out the scowl on your face. "When she gets older, and if she is still interested in ancient cultures and in shiny trinkets, and if you are still concerned that she'll go down my road, we'll give her a gentle nudge towards Archeology."

 _That,_ you think as you scoot closer and kiss her more appropriately in reconciliation, _is a nice alternative._ One that, if your daughter's inclinations and appreciations towards shiny things is something that will keep tickling her interest, you and Alex most definitely are going to need to steer her attention.

 **. . .**

You still tease her sometimes.

Take immeasurable pleasure in playing temptress with her, in more than one front.

It's not very fair play, you are aware of it, but it's so damn irresistible watching her scroll through pages of museums all around the world, and admire ancient necklaces, uniquely crafted bracelets and gemstones of every kind and shape, with that look of wonder of her face, that glint in her eyes, and not tantalize her a little.

"You planning something?" You ask her one evening when you sneak into her study after having tucked your little troublemaker in bed.

Alex chuckles softly and swirls around in the chair. Laptop and the website of a jewels' exposition forgotten as those emerald eyes find yours and draw you instinctively further into the room and towards her perpetual magnetic presence.

By the look that she gives you when you ask her that question after you caught her, she is very tempted, conflicted even, and for a moment you half expect her to play along and say something like "well there is this Renaissance exposition in England..." or even "I think I have located the long-lost crown jewel somewhere in Eastern Asia..." and you expect her to go check that out. Sometimes you do worry that she might miss her old life; the high brought by the thrill that she used to feel while planning and during a theft. But tonight, like every other night you occasionally find her looking up something, her expression turns less teasing and her eyes soften as she looks at you, shaking her head, shutting down her laptop and pulling you onto her lap.

"No." She simply answers, taking your hand in hers and entwining your fingers together. "I think I have already stolen the most precious thing ever." She admits and you don't have to wonder what it is.

"Yeah," You simply answer, leaning in to brush your smiling lips against hers in a whispered kiss. "I think you did." And you think you did as well.

Because the Red Rose Thief was named after her.. custom... to leave a rose as a replacement for every stolen item. And you certainly haven't forgotten that night, all these years ago, when you had followed her into that luxurious hotel and had the courage to finally approach her, with every intention to get your confirmation about your suspicions of her _secondary activities._

There was a rose on the nightstand when you woke up the next morning after all.

Another replacement. A token, along with the elegantly written note promising another encounter, to make up for the way she had sneaked furtively into your chest and, so discreetly that it took you a while to figure it out, stole your heart.

Or maybe, just like any other precious jewel she has ever stolen in her career, from the very beginning, your heart was just there waiting for her. Hers to find, but this time, also to keep.

* * *

 **I'm not much into Vauseman having kids, mostly because I don't see Alex as maternal, in canon at least. But this is an AU, and I wanted the fluffiest ending for this story I could think of. So... here you go :D Thanks for reading everyone :)**


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